With John in the Morning

I was just finishing the bacon as it sizzled in the cast iron pan my parents had bought in a flea market before I was born. The smell wafted into the high ceilings of the old farmhouse kitchen. It was a big, inviting room with sturdy cabinets hanging on walls that looked like the original wood paneling. Indeed, most of it had been there since my great-grandfather built the kitchen himself to replace the outside cookhouse that had been part of Heart’s Ease since 1885. If you knew where to look, you could still see the faint scratches on the wall marking every year’s growth through my childhood.

The appliances were old but serviceable. The sprawling yellow oak table, a Depression era survivor like the cast iron pan, was the place everyone gravitated toward. There were long comfortable couches in the living room but they got more use from the dogs than people unless there was overflow from a big party.

The bacon smell must have reached upstairs to John in the bedroom—or maybe it was the freshly brewed coffee’s pungent, peppery bouquet that added its own grace note—because I heard his footsteps echoing down the narrow back stairs that emptied into the kitchen. A moment later, John’s head ducked through the low doorway at the bottom of the stairs.

He passed close behind me, lingering for a moment to brush the hair away from my neck and bend down to leave a soft, teasing kiss just below my ear. John’s lovemaking had been especially slow and tender last night. The kiss sent a heat tingling through my body that ran down my fingertips, my belly, everywhere John had been the night before.

I took a moment to catch my breath and then turned to smile at him. “Your timing is perfect. I was just ready to start the eggs.”

He was a big, loose-jointed man who settled easily into one of the captain’s chairs at the round table with his back to the picture window. The window had been the only improvement to the house I’d been able to afford so far after making all the repairs to the barn and paddocks left by my father.

You could see most of the farm through it, always changing with the weather, the seasons, the time of day, but it was always Heart’s Ease, the first place to call home again in almost twenty years. John knew what the view meant to me and was always careful to leave the seat facing it open for me. This morning’s sun shining through the window behind John seemed to make a halo of his damp black curls.

He returned my smile with a wide grin of his own, the kind that started in the corners of his mouth and traveled up face to become a twinkle in those grey, blue eyes of his, the kind that spoke of the easy charm my mother always used to warn me about in a man. “He’s either a politician or out to break your heart. And there’s nothing to say he’s not both.”

The eggs needed another minute to cook so I brought John’s coffee to the table. Cup in hand, he blew the steam across the top of the cup for a few moments and favored me with another of his big smiles.

He loved my coffee. The first time I made it for him, the freshly ground arabica blend, he’d let it percolate through his body with warm contentment. “You know, after all those years of guzzling cop coffee like fuel to stay awake during long shifts, I’d almost forgotten what it was like to drink coffee just for pleasure.”

Breakfast was ready. It was simple. Local uncured bacon, eggs from a neighbor’s hens with tall orange yolks you’ll never see in a city-bought egg, and thin apple slices—from the earliest of the cold weather apples that were just ready for picking last week—quickly warmed in the pan after the eggs were done.

The first time I saw John was at the pub in nearby Borracho Springs, almost a year after my father’s failing health brought me back to the farm. Even though I had no idea of who he was, the sight of him stopped my breath for a second. When he looked up and noticed me, I blushed and looked away. He must have felt something, too. Before he left, he asked Jimmy, who was tending bar that night, to send a drink down my way.

After that, we seemed to run into each other at the pub more and more often until planning, rather than coincidence, regulated our visits. Eventually drinks at the pub turned into late night dinners – and then more. Soon, we were rarely apart. Each of us filled a void in the other that neither had realized was there.

Over the past two years, we’d become, and been accepted by the town as, a comfortable couple. After my father’s death, I’d already convinced the veterinary supply company I worked for that my regional sales team was as productive while I worked from the farm’s office as from headquarters. John, who made no secret of his political ambitions, had recently been elected County Sheriff.

I heard the crinkle of John putting the newspaper aside as I walked our two heaping plates to the table.

We ate breakfast in companionable silence. It was always easy for us to find things to talk about, but it was just as easy to sit together without saying anything.

When we were done eating and I made a move to get up to clear the dishes, John looked over at me. “Wait a second, Julia. There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”

“What’s up, John?”

“There’s going to be a vacancy on the County Board of Supervisors in November. I’ve been invited to run, probably unopposed. It would mean moving, though.” Here he paused and then went on, “So what do you think? Should I do it?”

“And you’re seriously considering it?” I asked, as a slight chill ran through me.

He looked down before he started to answer.

“No, wait. “You’ve already made your mind up, haven’t you, John? It’s what you’ve wanted for a long time.”

His head bowed even a little more to avoid my eyes and I knew I was right.

“And when did all of this happen, John?”

“It’s just temporary and I was a logical choice…”

“When, John?” I asked again, trying to keep a hard edge out of my voice.

“About two weeks ago.”

My whole body went cold. “And you’re just telling me now?”

“Oh Julia. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to hide anything. I was trying to figure out how to tell you. It hasn’t been easy. I’ve got you here now. I don’t want to lose that. But you could come with me. You could, you know. Now that you’ve got a sales team up and working, you can manage them from just about anywhere.

But we both knew that I couldn’t leave Heart’s Ease. Not when it was just beginning to come to life again. John’s dream was politics. Mine was Heart’s Ease.

John reached over to take my hand but I was too numb to feel it.

“Julia, are you alright?” There was concern in his voice but I couldn’t look at him. “Talk to me, please. I don’t want to lose you.”

And then, “Oh damn. I have to get to that quarterly meeting this morning with the Board of Control or they’ll take half my budget away. Why did that have to be today?”

He went to get his hat from the peg by the door and turned before left, “We can talk more about this tonight. Okay?”

But we both knew there was nothing more to say.

I sat at the table looking out at the tree branches swaying in the wind, the hawks circling lazily above, the horses wandering with their heads low to the ground as they grazed on all that rich grass.

I must have been sitting like that for quite a while because the coffee in my cup had turned cold and bitter. It looked like my mother had been right all along about that smile.