Drifting Clouds Rushing Water (eBook)

1

Jesse Wyatt knelt on the floor, sanding a plastered sheetrock seam. With the electric sander turned off, he pulled down his dust mask and passed his fingers over the wall to check for rough spots. Unfinished wallboard sheathed the room, making it difficult to imagine living here with furniture, floor lamps, or rugs. After marrying Lily, the Lindholm farm had assumed a secondary priority overshadowed by his efforts to make the marriage work and fulfill his landscaping responsibilities at City Nursery. Now three years into the marriage, Jesse found more time to spend at the farm away from their tense relationship. His vision involved reviewing his goals and imagining new projects for the house and farm. Even after five years the house needed more renovations. Unsatisfied with a mediocre effort, he took the time for quality work. That’s why he walked through the room checking that plaster covered the countersunk screw heads. Though late afternoon light filtered through the living room window, a standing work light lit the wall. With the dust mask pulled over his nose, the hand sander whined, ending his thought. Movement outside the window caught his attention. Lily’s car careened up the lane bordering the old fence line as dust followed her and drifted across the weedy field. Excited by her arrival he ground his teeth hoping they would avoid fighting.

Tight jeans showed off her long legs and a rose-colored fleece jacket matched her complexion as she marched through the open door. She stopped and looked at the unpainted walls. “It’s so dusty in here. How can you stand it?”

“That’s why the door and kitchen window are open.” Jesse said with affection and bent to kiss her. She turned her head and his lips brushed her cheek.

“No wonder it’s so cold. Do you ever start the heater?

“There’s been no time to get firewood.” Was she going to start in with her accusations again?

“You’re never cold, because you work outside and I spend my time inside the hospital.”

“Jesus, I’m tired. The drive out here gets longer every time.” Jesse dusted off the metal folding chair, the room’s only furniture. She sat and reached into a small shoulder bag for a cigarette and lighter. “There was a hysterical patient on the psych ward today who bit Sid so I had to make sure he followed the protocols for aids testing.” She blew smoke into the room. “Those incidents are an incredible paperwork hassle and I have to sign off on them. Don’t you ever have an ashtray in this place?”

Jesse closed the kitchen window and brought in a small bowl from the cupboard. She stubbed out her cigarette.

After shutting the front door, he concentrated on fitting a new piece of sandpaper to the long board’s flat surface.

“Are you listening? Doesn’t what I say matter to you?”

Recognizing her irritation, he controlled his voice. “The hand sanding will be quieter so we can talk.”

“I didn’t stop to eat. Do you have any food in the house?”

“No, but we can go to the Mexican restaurant in Lindholm later.”

“Just exactly why did you want me to come out here today?”

“You haven’t been to the farm in a while and I wanted you to see my recent work. Do you notice any differences?”

“It looks the same to me. It’ll be nothing more than a rundown house near a failed mill town. Will your remodeling get us a good price when we put this place up for sale?” Without waiting for a reply, she walked to the bathroom.

Jesse sanded on the sheetrock smoothing the plaster compound. She knew he didn’t want to sell the farm so why did she keep harping on it?

Lily returned to the room, sat on the chair, crossed her legs and lit another cigarette. “At least you finished the bathroom. But it sure was expensive and you’ve been working on it for years.”

Jesse turned to her. “The renovating expenses were paid out of my paycheck. Don’t you remember when we got married we decided I was going to keep remodeling the house and pay the mortgage out of my wages?”

“Oh, I remember. But I didn’t understand you were so obsessed. For the last three months, you’ve been coming out here every weekend leaving me home alone. We hardly spend any time together and even after work you’re always back in your study reading your farm books.”

“You’ve never wanted to be involved in my remodeling or in making this place into a real farm.”

She punched her cigarette into the ashtray and stood with her hands on her hips. “You know I don’t know how to handle tools and I’m not interested in learning how to dig in the dirt.”

Without the sanding board he approached her, but she moved away.

“It’s always the same. You won’t admit that I never bought into your little fantasy farm thing. Did you forget I’m a city girl, born in New York for Christ’s sake, and I work at a demanding high-stress job. Don’t forget my income pays for our Bradford home and the food and utilities so you can invest your money in your little farming hobby.”

“Hey, I’ve offered to help with your house expenses but you always preferred to pay the bills. You’ve kept your accounts private and I’ve never known how much money you’ve got.”

“My paycheck covers the payments and bills. That’s the way I want it.” She crossed the room and stood by the front window. “Besides, you never saw a future for yourself at my house. You see yourself living here in this ramshackled dump on this worn-out farm that nobody wants. You’ve put so much money and time into this place we’ll never break even when we sell.”

There it was again. She never stopped insisting on selling the farm. “Can’t you relax? Haven’t we had this conversation before and we always make up and forget our quarrels. Do you remember how we cherish and help each other get through our work schedules?” Lily’s shining eyes and full lips compelled him to honor her femininity and for the time being he ignored his defense.

She stood by the cold stove. “You never show it.” She paused as if gaining strength for her next allegations. “You’re always bringing up insinuations and sarcastic remarks criticizing my colleagues. The people you’re so quick to ridicule are my work friends. They’re professionals with advanced degrees. Why do you hate them?”

“What brought that up? But since you ask, they’re pretentious and cynical and ridicule their patients. None of your so-called friends consider their work a calling. They make fun of the hospital routines and get sloppy drunk. You call that admirable?”

She leaned into her anger. “Yeah, and your rough laborers aren’t even clean and most are wetbacks that can’t speak English. You think they’re the salt of the earth but they’re criminals, illegal immigrants, and lowlifes with no skills except digging ditches for your damned nursery. Those owners don’t pay you what your worth and make a fortune off those wetbacks. It’s hard to understand why you stay with the nursery and when I suggest you quit working with your hands and get into management, you get mad at me. You’re smart enough but you insist on hanging around with Mexican laborers.”

Jesse kicked the sanding board across the room where it banged against the wall and he stood facing her. “Those people you call lowlifes are more decent and loyal than the scheming over educated adolescents you call friends.”

Lily glared back at him and raised her voice. “The hospital staff is doing a humanitarian job helping the sick and injured. You’re just jealous that we’ve got the education you never wanted even though I offered to pay for you to get a degree.”

“Why do you undervalue my degree in landscape design? You never accepted that I’m a professional too. I’ve worked in landscaping since I was 17 and I won’t stand for you criticizing my trade. My portfolio of completed design projects speaks for themselves. I’ll always have a job.” His justifications just made him angry. “Damit, how do you think I can work when we’re arguing?”

“Don’t blame me. I only wanted to reminded you of our unresolved conflicts that you won’t face.”

“Sure, we have disagreements, but you never listen to my position. Instead, you pay no attention to what I want and expect me to go on your damned cruises with your friends. So I went with you and kept an open mind. But I got disgusted when the floating mansion descended on an unsuspecting island village. The rich tourists stayed in their castle, ignoring the obvious poverty on shore while gorging themselves in luxury. Nobody in your group showed any interest in the legacy of slavery and colonialism so important in the Caribbean. It’s another example of privilege and entitlement that makes my blood boil.”

The sound of her excited voice echoed through the house. “No, you don’t enjoy going with me on cruises that give me a break from the hospital and you won’t go to parties with my friends. Instead, you pal around with your Mexicans and drink beer at the tavern. I don’t want to rub shoulders with your gang members or their slutty girlfriends. Why stick up for them? They need more responsibility for their lives so they can take care of themselves.”

“You’re so superior. I thought medical professionals had sympathetic hearts.”

“Why do you despise me so much even after what I’ve done for you? You have a nice house to live in, we eat well, I pay for your needs and you still resent me. Why? Is it because I suggest how to improve yourself and make something of your...