Chapter 6: "Till Death Us Do Depart"

That first Sunday morning Mary helped Ma put out a big platter of meat sandwiches on the trestle table in the bunkhouse. Ma made them up the night before with Mary's help. She expected the crew to "make do" with those "slim pickings" when they arrived while we were in church. Mary was amazed at the number of sandwich they put together. Ma knew they would all be gone by the time we returned home from church.

It was like one of the regulars said to her, "Misses, I rather have your slim pickings than I would most folks Sunday best." Ma loved it when the men complimented her on her cooking. Ma's cooking was the one thing she was vain about. She had good cause to be.

One of the two hands that hadn't been with us the year before was the owner of the old horse in the corral. He seemed almost hesitant as he came in and sat at the table for supper. Ad Roman was his name. He was not yet twenty by a year or so and was about as homely as a mud fence.

I never argued when one of the hands said about him, "He'd beat old Abe Lincoln in an ugly contest." Ad was tall, gangly, awkward and shy. He was polite and on the very first day with us, offered to help set the table. One of the regular hands "allowed that skinny young feller had done demolished half of them sandwiches by his own self." We found out later that he hadn't eaten anything for the two days previous while he was looking for work.

"I was always expected to help out at home, Ma'am, and if I'm livin' here durin' harvest time, I see no reason for me to change." He also volunteered to help wash dishes.

We found out later how his family and their small ranch were more of the many casualties of the Dust Bowl and the Great Depression. Ad "came up north," as he referred to Oklahoma, to make as much money in the harvest as he could to send home to help feed his parents and two younger brothers.

The first evening he was with us, he got up from the kitchen table and started to scrape the dishes. It wasn't like there was all that much to scrape because our hay hands always cleaned their plates.

Mary Jean put the kettles of water on the stove to heat like Ma showed her. Our big old Monarch range had a three-gallon water well behind the griddle, but that only held wash water and "dipping water."

In our house we first washed the dishes and used old-fashioned yellow lye soap we made ourselves right on the farm. Soap making came right after the hogs were butchered. The year Mary worked for us was the last year we made soap.

Pa looked at Ma's work roughened hands and told her, "Honey, from now on you're goin' to use store bought soap I seen those advertisements for in the Farm Journal. Ma smiled and agreed. She had started to leave different magazines out where Pa could see them all opened to some soap advertisement.

After the dishes were washed and rinsed in the dipping water the plates were stacked on edge in the wooden plate rack, a square frame with thin slats running across it. The plates were scalded to remove all soap scum and any and all germs healthy enough to survive the lye soap. Ma was a stickler for sanitation and cleanliness.

Mary Jean gave Ad a funny look when he started to help with the dishes. But in a few minutes the two were chatting like magpies, laughing and joking and carrying on. Ma kept a close eye on the two at first. But it didn't take long to see that Ad was nothing more than a friendly young man with no devious or improper designs on Mary Jane Potter.

After they had finished with the dishes, Ad said to her, "Miss Mary, that was the funnest dish washin' I ever done." He smiled and nodded to us and went out into the bunkhouse to go to bed.

Mary Jean looked as if she was walking around in a daze. In fact, that pretty well summed it up. "He is the nicest boy I ever saw." she exclaimed. Ma and Pa smiled knowingly at each other. Then they turned the lamps were down until they were extinguished and we all went to bed.

"

What do you think, Walter?" Ma asked the next evening while Ad and Mary Jean were doing the dishes together. The pair of them made me feel unwelcome in the kitchen. I was happy to be exiled to the front room after supper.

I heard Pa chuckle softly and say, "Well, Hon, you know that I don't believe in rushing into things like that." He paused a moment to collect his thoughts and continued, "But I believe that two real lonely people have matched up and look plumb right for each other."

"Yes, dear, I agree. You are right." She got up from her rocker where she had been darning a sock. She went over to where Pa sat in his big chair, bent over and kissed him on the forehead. "Remember how we were back then Dear?"

"Yup," pa answered. He never said another word. He got up and led Ma out on the front porch. They sat in the swing and held hands while they glided slowly back and forth. Through the window I could see them hold hands.

Right then I had begun to re-read Tom Sawyer for the third or fourth time and was more interested in the book than two grown-ups get all mushy. Even at my young age I sensed my parents were special.

Every evening, Ad helped with the dishes and he and Mary Jean took longer and longer to finish. One evening toward the end of the second week, they just stared into each other's eyes and sighed. That was the night Ad came into the front room and asked to speak to Ma and Pa about something on his mind.

They both had to strain hard not to laugh. Pa especially found it difficult to keep a straight face. He took a deep breath and looked as if he were almost in pain. "Mister and Misses Hansen, I got a lot on my mind and I don't know where to start."

"Ad, Mary Jean likes you a lot, too." Pa said.

"You see, I got these feelin's ... Whut did you say?" He looked at my parents in amazement. His eyes widened. "How in tarnation did you know I have feelin's for Mary Jean? I ain't even told her yet."

"Ad," Ma told him in a kind and gentle voice, "When a young man talks to a young girl while they do the dishes and he takes almost a half hour to dry a single fork, I would say he has more than just 'feelins' for her. He's in love with her."

"How long you knowed my heart?" He just couldn't get over that Ma and Pa were so wise that they knew his 'feelins' for Mary Jean.

"Well, I guess the first we knew something was up was the first time you washed dishes together," Pa told him. "In fact we watched pretty close to see how honorable your attentions were."

"You was watchin' and listenin' to us?" Ad Roman began to get angry.

"Ad, you came to us a stranger. Mary Jean is our responsibility while she is under our roof. We would be quite remiss in our duties if we didn't look out for her," Ma told him in a gentle voice.

Then she went on to explain, "We didn't listen to what you were saying; rather we just watched from here in the living room. Of course we found you to be what we believed you were in the first place, a nice young man who comes from a good family."

"Oh. Well, I guess I better apologize for gettin' so huffy. But I ain't never had no girl before. It's skeery business."

"Pa laughed and said, "Yep, it's very scary business. Why I was just about scared out of my mind when I was courting Missus Hansen here."

Unnoticed by anyone, Mary Jean had come in and listened to part of the conversation. "Ad, how come you tell them and you don't tell me your feelin's?"

"Well, Miss Mary, I guess 'cause you already know my feelin's. But did you know they did too?" He was still amazed that anyone else knew how he felt about her.

"Well, maybe I do and maybe I don't know your feelin's Adleigh Roman. But I like to be told. You never once said how you felt about me, to me."

"Can't you see it in my eyes how much I love you?" he asked so plaintively. They forgot anyone else was around them. "I love you so much I hurt in here." He placed his hand over his heart. The look of anguish on his face showed how he felt inside.

"Well, shoot, tell me you love me, then," she told him. She looked exasperated as she continued, "A girl needs to hear them things. What is so hard about that?" She stamped her bare foot.

"But I want to marry you and I ain't good enough." He looked down at his feet, unable to meet her gaze. The pain, the raw emotion in his voice and his absolute devotion was so great that no one could doubt his sincerity. He kept staring down at the floor and was unable to look at her.

In a softer voice she told him, "Ad Roman, you let me decide who I want to marry. And if I want to marry you, then that's the way it's goin' to be."

He raised his eyes until he could look into hers and asked, "When you think you'll know? Any time soon?" He looked and sounded more like a little boy right then than an over six feet tall farmhand.

"Well, I know right now. The answer is yes, because you see, Ad Roman, I love you too."

They stood there in the living room and stared deep into each other's eyes. It was almost as if there were only the two of them in their own little world. Right then no one else existed, only they two. It was probably a trick of the lamplight, but it seemed like they were surrounded by a golden glow that encompassed just them.

Pa looked at Ma and smiled an "I told you so" smile at her. She smiled back up at him, her eyes just a little moist and nodded yes. Pa asked, "Can you wait at least two days after the harvest is over?" I was planning that Davy would be the first one to get married in this house but I guess it was meant to be you. He slapped Ad on the back and almost knocked him to the floor. Sometimes Pa forgot his own strength.

"Kin we wait, Miss Mary?" Ad asked her.

"Of course we can wait, silly. I want to be married in a real house with lovin' family around me." Then she caught herself, "Oh. I didn't mean to take no liberties here, but I just love you so much, even Davy, that you are more like family to me than my own kin."

Ma hugged her and said, "Mary Jean, that is the nicest sentiment anyone can feel toward me, that she love me enough to consider me family. Mister Hansen feels the same." She caressed the girl once on the cheek.

Ever the practical one, Pa said, "This is Wednesday. Next week we'll have the last of the grain in and delivered. The Grain buyer was already by today and paid us the agreed on price for the wheat. So on Saturday evening after chores we can have the preacher come out here and tie the knot.

Now Friday afternoon I have some business in town anyway so we can go in and get the license and make the final arrangements with the preacher. Does that suit you?" He grinned at the two lovebirds.

"That will be fine for the both of us," Mary Jean said in a firm voice. Ad Roman just nodded. He kept staring deep into Mary Jean's eyes.

Pa continued, "Now I just happen to have an old ring that might fit this young lady. What I propose is this. I need some help on a few chores for about a week. So I'll pay you fifteen dollars and toss the ring in to boot. Mary can stay and help and I'll pay her another fifteen dollars for that week. I was shocked at Pa. To pay a girl slightly more than a dollar a day was unheard of. Grown men with families were glad to receive a dollar a day driving truck.

"What ring is this, Hon?" Ma asked.

"Well, you remember how I bought that first wedding ring and lost it before we got married and then I bought you another?"

Ma frowned, "Yes, then we found it later and misplaced it again. Don't tell me. You found it again?" That disappearing ring had been a running joke between the two of them for a long time.

"Yup, it turned up in that box of books I got out of the attic today. I thought Mary here might like to read some of them. And when I opened the box, there was that ring."

Pa took it out with a flourish and handed it to Ma. She smiled and looked at it with fond remembrance and handed it to Ad. "What do I do with it?" he asked.

"Keep it in a safe place and place it on her finger when you say I do." Ma told him.

He handed it back to Ma. "Please ma'am, you keep hold on it till we need it." He looked at the ring thoughtfully, "That there's real gold, ain't it?"

"Well, of course." Pa told him. "Wedding rings are supposed to be gold."

"Well, I cain't accept nothin' that valuable. It wouldn't be right."

Mary Jean stamped her foot again. "Ad Roman, you shut up that talk. That ring is being given with love. Love is more valuable than any gold ring by itself. The love is what makes it so valuable and precious." She frowned at him and let him know who was the boss.

"So I don't want to hear no more talk about that ring. I have spoken." That tiny little girl folded her arms, stamped her foot and stuck her chin out, just daring her gangly, well over six feet tall beloved to argue with her.

"Yes ma'am." He stared at his soon to be bride. "I sure am lucky to get someone as smart as you."

He looked at Pa and said, "She's book smart, too. She's even been up in high school." He shook his head, "I only got to the third grade. I had to quit to help on our ranch." He looked at Mary Jean with admiration.

She got a determined look on her face, pulled his head down to her level and planted a kiss on his cheek. His eyes got big and his mouth dropped open. "Golly," he whispered.

We got to bed late and I had trouble when I got up the next morning. Staying up, even a little later than usual, was hard on a growing boy. I did my regular chores and caught the yellow school bus and rode into town to school. It was the second week of September and the first week of school. Harvest was late that year.