25
Sienna
June 2014
“Smells good, Sweetie,” Dad said as Sienna set down the bowl of mashed potatoes.
“Sure does,” Grandma Dee said, smiling at Sienna in that “You done good, girl” way of hers. It was about as much praise as Grandma Dee ever gave for anything. Sometimes Sienna wanted to point out that in just five more weeks she wouldn’t be doing the cooking anymore and maybe Grandma could muster up a little more appreciation in the meantime. But Sienna would never say anything like that and felt guilty every time she thought about Dad and Grandma Dee eating scrambled eggs or frozen burritos every night. Aunt Lottie had said she’d invite them over for Sunday dinners every week instead of once a month. At least they would get a home-cooked meal one night out of every seven.
“Let’s hope it tastes as good as it smells,” Sienna said as she took her place at the table.
“If it doesn’t, I’m giving it to the chickens,” Grandma Dee said.
Sienna rolled her eyes, the expected response to Grandma Dee’s expected comment. Not that it wasn’t true. On those times when Sienna overcooked the chicken or forgot the sugar in the cornbread, Dad would smile and tell Sienna it was fine. Grandma Dee, on the other hand, would take a couple of bites, then dump the plate into the chicken can—a ceramic canister kept next to the sink where they collected leftovers—and make herself a sandwich. She would go about it with that air of disappointment that was as much a part of Grandma Dee as the steely gray hair that she French braided every day and the absolute knowledge that if there was work to be done, Grandma Dee would be there. Sienna and Grandma Dee’s relationship hadn’t ever been easy, but Sienna had come to love what Grandma Dee was more than hate what she wasn’t and to take Grandma’s rough edges with a grain of salt. Her grandmother hadn’t had an easy life, after all.
Dad prayed over the food—slow-cooked pot roast and gravy from the full side of beef they had dressed in the fall and kept in the deep freeze, mashed potatoes, peas from the garden, and rolls from frozen dough bought at the store. Dessert would be apple crumble with fresh cream—they kept one dairy cow amid the two hundred or so beefs. It was one of Sienna’s jobs to milk Gwen twice a day come hell or high water. Sienna felt bad every time she thought about Dad and Grandma having to do it once she’d left.
“So, what’s on your agenda this week?” Dad asked after taking a few bites.
“Ugh, don’t ask,” Sienna groaned. “I’ve been telling myself that wedding stuff doesn’t start until tomorrow morning.” Sienna had never done anything like this. Beck was helping where she could, but she’d had her first baby a few months ago. Sienna had never seen Beck overwhelmed by anything, but little Braeden had her beat.
“Well, the Sabbath should be a day of rest,” Grandma Dee said, looking up from her plate to wink at Sienna and give a partial smile.
“Right?” Sienna said, enjoying the moment of banter. Then she shrugged. “This week’s to-do list isn’t that bad. I need to finalize the menu and guests for the rehearsal BBQ and work on invitations—that’s tomorrow. Tuesday, we’re cutting hay. Wednesday, I’m going to Cheyenne with Beck and Tracy for my dress fitting. On Thursday Tyson’s coming so we can get the engagement photos and our wedding license . . . Oh—” She looked up, flushed with excitement all over again as she remembered this next part. “Since we don’t have time for an official honeymoon before class starts, Tyson’s folks are sending us on a cruise at Christmas—part honeymoon, part Christmas gift.” She sensed that she was smiling too hard, so she forced her expression to relax and kept her focus on her weekly to-do list. “Apparently, I need a passport and it can take a while, so I guess I need to get it started this week.” She waggled her eyebrows at how fancy that sounded—a passport! “We’ll work on that when we get the wedding license since I guess the same office does both. The recorder’s office or something downtown.”
“Oh, wow, a passport,” Grandma Dee said in a neutral voice. “Highbrow.”
The way Grandma Dee said it deflated Sienna’s excitement and made her feel . . . stuck up, as if she thought she was better than people who will never go on a cruise and wouldn’t even want to. Sienna had gotten pretty good at knowing how to present things so as not to draw out Grandma Dee’s cynical side, but apparently she’d gotten sloppy. At the same time, she didn’t think it would hurt Grandma Dee to be happy for her.
“How does a passport work for her, Mark?” Grandma asked. “I mean, she’s Canadian and American, right? Which passport does she get?”
“Oh, well, I don’t know,” Dad said, keeping his eyes on his plate. He poked at his potatoes, seeming uncomfortable. Have I hurt his feelings too? Sienna wondered. He wasn’t as sensitive as Grandma Dee, which meant making him feel bad was worse.
“I live in the U.S., so I think I just get a U.S. one,” Sienna said, trying to be helpful. She’d never thought of herself as Canadian and didn’t like the separate feeling of having a different nationality from the rest of her family. She hadn’t even realized until a sociology class in high school that she had dual citizenship. “I’ll just need my birth certificate and Social Security card, I think.”
Sienna looked up to see that Grandma Dee was looking at Dad. Sienna looked at him too. Dad looked up and noticed he was the center of attention. He swallowed and took a drink of his milk—he always had milk with dinner.
“I can look into it,” he said with a nod. “I’ll run by the recorder’s office and see what they need; then I’ll make sure all the paperwork is in order for when Tyson gets in to town. Easy-peasy.”
“Your dad will go with you guys to get the license too,” Grandma Dee decided. “Just to make sure it all comes together.”
Sienna wanted to argue that since she was getting married and all, she needed to start doing these kinds of things herself. Sometimes she felt pushed to be more independent than she wanted to be—like going to the doctor herself and picking up ranch orders in Cheyenne. Other times they treated her like a baby—Dad filling out the paperwork for her driver’s license and going with her up to the desk at the DMV. He didn’t let her get a phone until her junior year of high school and a Facebook account until she was almost seventeen; then made sure she had the highest privacy settings possible. But, then again, there was still so much to do to get ready for the wedding. Maybe it would be nice to have some help.
“With a little luck on your part, Sienna,” Grandma continued, “your dad will get everything filled out and all you’ll have to do is sign a paper.”
“That would be great.”
Dad smiled at her, and she let more of her irritation go. Sometimes Sienna wished there could be a way for her and Tyson to live here. If not at the ranch, then in Lusk, at least. But Tyson was majoring in international marketing—Lusk didn’t have any jobs like that. Sienna looked between Dad and Grandma Dee. Once she married Tyson, she wouldn’t work side by side with Dad anymore. She wouldn’t bicker with Grandma Dee and wish she’d just give her a hug now and then. She wouldn’t sit at this table in this house and have dinner with them on a Sunday. But she’d still come back to the ranch sometimes, and they would have dinner together then, with Tyson, and share all the new things happening at the ranch and in Chicago. Sienna further reassured herself with the knowledge that one day she’d be bringing babies with her to fill up the seats around this table—it would feel so good. Maybe once Sienna was gone, Grandma Dee would appreciate the fact that she’d been doing the cooking in this house for most of her life. Maybe they would learn how to make their own lasagna. That would be good for all of us, she told herself. So, yeah, changes were coming, but change wasn’t necessarily bad any more than it was necessarily good. Just different.
“Sienna,” Grandma Dee said, drawing Sienna’s attention back to her. Grandma winked. “Good job on dinner. Those poor chickens are just gonna have to do with their scratch tonight.”