I don’t think people worry much about losing an arm or a leg. Probably don’t even think about it, except maybe for those fighting in wars. Most folks just go about their business, me included, expecting their body parts to always be there. I mean, it’s not like you get up in the morning and say, “I best be careful today, I could lose my arm!”—or, you know, a leg. But that’s what happened.
After Margaret Mary’s funeral, things had been going quite well, considering. I was busy caring for Sam and Grace and the chickens. Murphy was finishing the extra room he added onto the cabin for the new baby coming. I had to stop denying it when I could no longer hide the fact I was pregnant. Keeping it a secret turned out to be a bad decision. With Buck gone and Murphy part of my daily routine the folks in town were having a field day ragging on who was the father. Verna was having one hissy fit even though I assured her that Buck was absolutely the father and there was positively no chance whatsoever anybody else was. Even so, she insisted on talking to the doctor to see how far along I was.
“What for?” Murphy asked.
“Guess she wants to make sure Buck was still even around.”
Regardless of the gossip and trouble with Verna, Murphy and I fell into a good routine. Sam stayed with me and Grace, and Murphy came by each day and stayed until nightfall. Willa Mae did, too, to help out with the kids. We tended the vegetable garden and had enough beans to feed the whole town. Mama always made three-bean salad with any extras left over from canning, but the recipe called for some canned beans—wax and the big flat Italian ones—to add to the garden fresh ones, and I didn’t have any on hand. I was big as a barrel and didn’t much feel like going and getting any.
Me and Murphy worked the chicken business together, mine and his, while Willa Mae tended to the babies. We took dips in the creek when the work was done and short walks at night when the babies were bedded down. It was on one of them walks that things got a bit out of hand.
I had a lot of feelings stored up for Murphy, and they all came rushing out. We weren’t just being stalked by trouble; we were waving our arms and calling its name. I’m not saying we had relations like a husband and wife. But we surveyed the land and came close to tilling the field. I tried to ease my guilt by reminding myself that Buck had gone ahead and planted the crop with Imelda Jane, and they had a harvest that’d soon be here to prove it. So what could be so wrong? But, deep down, I knew it wasn’t a good idea to measure my conduct based on how he measured his. Mama always said we determine what our deeds are and then our deeds determine who we are. But then Mama said a bad apple spoils its companions. Maybe Buck was a bad apple and it was too late. Maybe I was spoiled.
“I need to get my life back on track, Murphy,” I said.
“You need to see a lawyer and get a divorce, Adie,” Murphy said and brushed the hair out of my eyes.
“Murphy, I can’t hardly do that. Buck’s fighting a war.” Murphy traced the curve of my cheekbone with his fingertips, which sent a shiver down my backside.
“In fact, we can’t be going off like this anymore,” I said. “It’s not right.”
“What’s not right is Buck leaving you pregnant, Imelda Jane in the same condition, and then hightailing it off to fight a war that don’t need fighting,” Murphy said and pulled me to him.
“We’re a family, Adie. I’ll do right by you and the kids. And I’ll treat this new one like my own. That’s a promise.”
I told him it couldn’t ever be, but as summer passed on, he wooed me and wore me down. It wasn’t hard, seeing as I’d grown up a lot in the last year and knew I loved him like I’d never loved Buck. Mama told me grown-up love was knowing all the right buttons and never pushing them. I finally understood. I couldn’t imagine hurting Murphy in places where he was tender.
“All the women in my life have left me, Adie,” he said. “My mama run off, Margaret Mary’s gone. Stay with me, Adie. Marry me. Say you will.” He kissed me with such a hunger I got lost. Before I knew it, I said yes.
“I will, I will,” is what I said. And I meant it. It was all decided. Murphy and I would get married and be a family. Buck would have to make a new life for himself when he returned. He could stay in the cabin. Grace and me and the new baby were moving in with Sam and Murphy as soon as it was official. I got busy packing. The baby was due in a month, and I wanted everything ready. I sorted through baby clothes and tended to my chickens. I cooked and cleaned and kept myself busy. I fretted over what I’d tell Mama and how I’d face Verna now that I’d made my decision. Truth be told, I was scared. I told Murphy, “My mama says there’s consequences when you make selfish choices.” He didn’t say a word, just stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head.
To keep my fears in check, I kept myself too busy to worry during the day and too tired to bother at night. I thought of Murphy and our new life. It was laid out like dinner.
Before we could pull up a chair and dig in, an official letter from the government arrived. The news inside changed everything.