Chapter 9

Tam pulled up to the cabin at Lost Long Lake and looked around. Don and Lanh’s GMC pickup was in the driveway. The cabin was wide open, but “the kids” were nowhere around. Searching the cabin, she found it neat, their laundry basket overflowing, ready to take to the washing machine, and the garbage packed up ready to drag out, but there was no sign of Don and Lanh.

She walked out to the lakefront and found the sailboat tied up to the dock, but not the Jon boat ... there it was, out in the lake. Don was at the stern. He clearly noticed Tam and was putting away his fishing gear while Lanh remained standing at the bow, fishing pole in hand ... was she naked? It was hard to tell at this distance, but Don must have said something because Lanh began reeling in her line and when she put down her rod and reel she bent over and picked up her bikini top and put it on ... yes, she was naked. “I’m going to have to talk to that girl,” muttered Tam.

Soon they were at the dock and carrying their fishing gear back up to the cabin. “We were supposed to open your wedding presents this morning, remember?” chided Tam.

“That’s at ten,” said Don, who was not wearing a watch.

“It’s noon,” retorted Tam.

“That explains why I’m hungry,” said Lanh as she set her tackle box on the table.

“I got something for you to eat,” grinned Don as he took his near naked wife of one week into his arms.

“Will it satisfy my cravings?” she smiled coyly.

“Don’t answer that! Come on, Jake’s waiting in the car,” snarled Tam as she grabbed their laundry basket. “And put some clothes on!” Tam headed for the car grumbling, “God damn it, I’m turning into my mom, and I don’t have any kids yet.”

“Just me!” sang Lanh right behind her, carrying a cooler full of fish that they caught, filleted, and wrapped.

“What about me?” whined Don as he locked the cabin and carried the trash bags to the truck.

Don and Lanh arrived at the farm about ten minutes after Tam and Jake. Lanh was finishing a hamburger with one hand as she and Don carried the cooler between them. They took it to the chest freezer in the tractor shed, then, after stacking the fish neatly in the freezer, they joined the small crowd in Lanh’s apartment. Mai, Tam, Kim-ly, Rosa, and Sydney, along with Jake, Craig, and Bao, awaited them, as did an enormous mountain of gifts and cards. Tam had set up a long folding table and organized an assembly line for opening, photographing, and documenting the gifts. All they needed was Don and Lanh.

For their part, Don and Lanh were stunned. Their invitations said “No gifts” right? They’re joining the military and going to mobilize anywhere; gifts would be an encumbrance. “We’re not going to have enough time for sex tonight,” muttered Lanh as she saw the mountain of generosity.

“You watch your tongue!” warned Don. They settled down to the task at hand and opened each gift and looked at each one as Tam and Sydney catalogued each gift. Sydney tracked the gifts, Tam tracked the cards and cash.

As the assembly line examined the mountain of largess, Sandy Robertson stepped outside onto the wide, breezy porch, wringing her hands. She’s been through the mayhem of opening wedding gifts four times before with her daughters, she gave Lanh, Tam, and Kim-ly her best advice on dealing with the mountain of gifts, then stepped out to leave the girls to their own devices. And now she was free. All of her girls were gone, married to good men, and now she was going to be showered with grandchildren. The first should be here in a couple of weeks. With Donovan married, there’re no children left in her life. Her only responsibility was that big empty house where she raised her girls. Yesterday she went to her manager at the bank where she has worked since she graduated from high school and informed him that yes, she would be retiring.

Big changes scared her. When her husband died suddenly, it took her years to recover. Thank God she had a recently widowed Ralph to share her anger with. She vowed that a big change like that would never scare her again, but just the thought of calling the realtor on Monday morning terrified her. She both loved and hated that house, but it had to go; it’s too much for her now. Then again, the thought of talking to the bank manager scared her too, and in the end, it was easy. So, this should be easy too, right?

Sandy stood on the porch and breathed in the fragrant air, full of the scent of flowers and plowed fields, and cows. Songbirds called and in the distance a car on the highway could be heard, occasionally the neighbor’s tractor, or a moo from a grazing cow. Enough lollygagging Sandra Robertson! she scolded herself. It’s got to be now.

She stepped off the porch and brushed her hand on the tire swing, then she solidly set her mind to the next step in her life. She strode into the tractor shed where she found Ralph; he had a metal device in the bench vice and was cleaning up a welded joint with his grinder. Sandy loved the tractor shed for the same reasons that Lanh loved it. It smelled of metal, rust, oil, grease, sweat and hard work. It reminded her of hard working Minnesota men. Sandy stepped up to him and he set down the grinder, raised the safety glasses, and smiled at her.

“Walk with me,” she said and headed for the door.

Ralph peeled off the gloves, glasses, and coveralls and caught up with Sandra. and they walked back to the pond, silently enjoying the warm spring afternoon. They ended up at the kids’ campsite, and she leaned against the picnic table where Don and Lanh gave their virginity to each other. She took a deep breath; this was going to change everything, and she prayed it would change things for the better. She took both of Ralph’s hands into hers and looked into his light gray eyes. Do it! She scolded herself. Stop dragging it out!

“Ralph, we’ve known each other so long, you were there to help when my Ken died, and I hope I was a help when you lost Emily.” She looked up at his eyes and he just smiled that patient, caring smile. “You’ve always been a dear to me, and so, so patient waiting for my answer...”

He just nodded; he didn’t push her to speak. His kindness and strength were a miracle. Oh God, this is going to change EVERYTHING. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“Yes.”

Back in Lanh’s apartment, Don unwrapped the next box and laughter rang out; it was another rice maker. Lanh’s face lit up like the wrapping paper had concealed the Holy Grail, because to her this was the holy grail of rice makers. Twenty different settings: slow cooker, pressure cooker, rice cooker, it was an all-in-one wonder appliance. “That’s a keeper!” said Lanh as she reviewed the box. All that Don was able to understand was the cute little elephant logo on the box. The rest was lost to him. He liked the first rice maker he opened, a tiny red pot with one button. Put in the rice, put in the water, close the lid, press the button. When the button pops out, eat the rice. “Look honey, it does wild rice!” she gleefully pointed out the mention of wild rice on the box. Minnesota wild rice is different from all other types of rice and a rice maker that will cook it properly is a rarity.