Breakfast was the next item on the agenda and, thanks to the Andersons next door, theirs was better than what most people in the community enjoyed. The menu varied from day to day, but might consist of a small portion of fresh berries, sometimes canned peaches or applesauce, or a few fresh vegetables. They ate oatmeal once or twice a week, and when David was paid for working at the ranch, which he did most days, payment was made in grains, eggs, meat, and the occasional container of milk, which was always a welcome treat.
The Anderson’s garden was nearly at the end of production, but with a delayed first frost there was still an abundance of produce that Grace was harvesting, allowing for tomatoes, peas, lettuce, and other vegetables to account for a good portion of their diet as well. Lunch was similar to breakfast, and dinner consisted of any meat they had as well as any food that Jacob May might have collected during one of the scavenging trips in his truck. For filler, Jennifer made up simple, whole-wheat biscuits, and cooked them in the old Dutch Oven she’d retrieved from their camping supplies. All of the family had lost weight, but they weren’t starving, which meant a lot, and had adjusted without too much complaint to their new routine.
Beyond their search for food, Emma attended school four days a week, Spencer and Jennifer had playgroup three times, David did his work at the farm, and council and community meetings usually occupied three or four of Jennifer’s afternoons. A community lending library, with a variety of books available to borrow, had been started, along with game groups, dance groups, craft groups and a number of other venues that gave people a chance to get together in the evenings. On Sunday mornings, two different families hosted church services, and while attendance was rumored to be increasing each week, Jennifer hadn’t yet felt compelled to participate.
Late evening was the loneliest time of day for Jennifer, because it ended any opportunities to socialize and made her feel like her family was being held hostage to the demands of darkness. No longer could the night be held at bay with the flick of a switch, or loneliness salved with a phone call or a visit to a friend. With batteries and candles exhausted, for all intents and purposes, and Jennifer too afraid to experiment with any kind of flame for light, the coming of night forced the completion of each day whether she was ready for it or not, and each day was ending a little earlier than the one before.
Jennifer had found that if she started getting the kids off to bed when the sun hit the horizon, there was usually enough light for her to get them bedded down and still have a few minutes of time to herself before all of the light disappeared. Spencer typically went down first, although lately Emma was beating him, sometimes thirty minutes before the sun set. David preferred to stay up, but with the hard work he was doing at the ranch, the cooler weather setting in, and his energy tapped, he was usually ready to head to bed at dusk without much prodding.
As part of her nighttime ritual, Jennifer sat next to Spencer on his bed and tucked the covers around him, and tonight was no different from the routine they had developed.
She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you, big guy,” she whispered in his ear.
“Love you too, Mom,” he replied, rising up to wrap his little arms tightly around her neck. He gave a grunt as he hugged her, then fell back onto his bed. “Mom,” he said, his blue eyes gazing up at her, innocent and wide. “When will dad be here?”
Jennifer flinched at the question. Over the last few weeks, Spencer had gradually quit asking about his dad, and Jennifer had been relieved that Spencer wasn’t thinking too much about his dad’s absence. “I don’t know, honey. Why do you ask?”
“He said he wasn’t going to be gone so long, but it’s been lots of days.”
“Dad didn’t know he’d be gone this long, hon, but some stuff has happened to make him late. No airplanes or cars are working right now.”
“How’s he going to get home?”
“Well,” said Jennifer, “how would you get home if you couldn’t use an airplane?”
Spencer considered the question, and then smiled. “I’d ride a horse, like a cowboy.”
“Well, you’re dad is probably riding a horse, just like you would.”
Spencer laughed. “But Dad’s not a cowboy.”
“I bet he’d learn, so he could get home to you.”
“Do you think he’s still mad?”
“Why do you think he’s mad?” Jennifer asked, surprised.
“He got mad when I knocked his shirts on the floor, and I didn’t say sorry.”
“Spencer, don’t you worry about that. I know your dad loves you, lots and lots.” She started to choke up. “I bet he doesn’t even care at all about those silly shirts. He just wants to get home to his kids.”
“Mom, tell him I’m sorry when he gets back.”
“I think he knows, Spencer. I’m glad you’re thinking about him.”
Spencer grinned broadly “See you in the morning, Mom,” he said, then turned on his side and closed his eyes, still smiling.
Jennifer kissed him again, then walked up the stairs as she thought about her conversation with Spencer and wondered where Kyle might be. In the living room, David was sitting on the floor playing solitaire with a well-worn deck of cards. “Time for bed, Son,” she said. “It’s almost dark, and you’re not feeling well.”
David coughed hoarsely and raised a hand in the air. “Just let me finish this game,” he choked out between the coughs.
“Are you going to be able to go to work tomorrow? You sound pretty bad.”
David shrugged. “We’ll see,” he said just as another coughing fit struck. “I hope so. We need the food.”
“Well, if you’re sick, you’re sick. I’m going to help the Andersons get most of the vegetables out of their garden this week. Grace is worried about frost and doesn’t want to lose anything. She said she’d share as much as they can spare, and they have lots of carrots and potatoes stocked in their basement, so don’t worry too much about missing a day or two at the farm.”
“But I’ve been getting some meat, and I’d rather not be a vegetarian.”
Jennifer laughed at her oldest. “We can get by on vegetables if we need to. Mrs. Anderson has a wonderful garden, so you’d better be grateful to her.”
“I am, Mom. You know I’m just kidding. Has Mrs. Anderson ever said why she has such a big garden? The thing takes up most of the yard around their house. It’s huge!”
“Grace says it’s a hobby she enjoys. She likes to try out new varieties and techniques, plus they do a lot of canning and usually share it with their kids. We’re extremely lucky that they live next door.”
David nodded and finished his card game while he visited with his mother, then wished her a good night and headed downstairs to his bedroom.
Jennifer straightened up the house before settling in on the couch with a borrowed book. The evenings were getting cooler, and she wrapped a blanket around her legs and positioned herself to catch the last of the fading light, reading until the words on the pages could no longer be deciphered, then she folded down the corner and set the book on the floor.
Lately, with the cooler evenings, it felt like fall, and Jennifer worried again about how they would stay warm through the winter. The propane fireplace would provide some heat, but they only had a quarter tank left, and she had no idea how long that would last, especially if temperatures got down below zero.
She worried, as she always did, about Kyle, and seriously wondered for the first time, if he was really alive, and if he was alive, where he might be. She worried about their food, but hoped that between the Anderson’s generosity and David’s work at the farm, they would scrape by. She worried about Doug. He was a constant, nagging stress she carried with her everywhere she went. She’d seen him around recently, but thankfully he’d avoided any contact with her. Maybe her message had been received after all, but she doubted that. His actions at the last meeting told her that was unlikely.