ATOP Chapter Twenty-Seven

Summer was turning into fall. The trees were a blaze of glory in flaming red, scarlet, and gold, dotted with calm and subtle browns. The fields, what was left of them, were ripe and ready for harvest. The crisp chill in the air foretold of the winter to come. The days were getting shorter... but for Rachel... they seemed to be getting longer. 

Something was wrong. With every day that slowly dragged itself by, she knew it more. She had known it when she stepped off the boat in New York... had known it the moment she saw him in the refugee camp in France... but it was getting worse. She could see it in Ronnie's eyes... haunted and gray more often than they were blue... hear it in his voice... in the strained words that he tried to make cheerful and failed at miserably. 

And the days went on getting harder and longer. Conversation was difficult, they seemed to speak of nothing more than the weather anymore. Mealtimes were silent. Ronnie left earlier in the morning than he had before and stayed out later. He seemed to find no comfort except in work and he was pushing himself to the limit and beyond. 

On one of the last warm and sunny afternoons of the year, Rachel packed up a picnic basket and squeezed Benjie into a little sweater and cap. He was growing fast and he giggled in delight as she worked to fasten the buttons on his sweater. He needed a new one already and she couldn't knit fast enough. Well... maybe Donna had some old hand-me-downs she could borrow. 

"Shall we go find Daddy?" she beamed at Benjie and he bounced excitedly, wriggling away from her grip.

"Find Daddy!" he crowed, clapping his hands. Rachel sighed as she lifted the basket and reached for Benjie's hand. This wasn't how it was supposed to be... she shouldn't have to dread meeting her husband for lunch... But she scarcely knew what to say to him... this still, marble statue with gray eyes.

It took her a long time to find him. He was out in the middle of a field, just sitting on a parked tractor. It was a field that had been harvested a week ago, thus it was one of the last places she had expected him to be. He didn't look up when she approached... just sat there with his head down, staring vacantly into a past that she could not share.

"Hello," she called out cheerfully, Benjie echoing her with a cry of "Daddy!" and dropping her hand to run to the tractor.

"Ride, Daddy, tractor, ride!"

Ronnie gave Benjie a vague smile... that was all. It was as if he didn't even mentally process the presence of his son. He didn't seem to see Rachel at all, until she climbed up on the step of the tractor, shaking his shoulder with a forced laugh.

"What are you doing? This field is empty!"

"Oh... I..." Ronnie lifted his head and shook it fiercely, as if trying to clear it. He seemed almost surprised to find himself there. "I... dunno..." he shrugged. "I was gonna..."

"Ach, never mind," Rachel sighed. "I brought lunch. And you are going to eat it and then come home and get some rest. You have been working too hard, jah? You are not thinking clearly."

"I'm fine." the words came out more forcefully than he had intended them to. His eyes flashed almost angrily and he jerked back as she reached out to him, pushing her hand away. Rachel bit her lip, blinking hard, warning back the tears that threatened to fall.

"Are you?" the question was so soft that he barely heard it. But he looked at her... really looked at her... for what felt like the first time in forever... and the look of pain in his eyes pierced her heart.

"Come... get down..." she took his hand, all but pulling him from the tractor. He followed her without protest. "Enough of work for today. For once you are going to rest, whether you want to or not."

♡♡♡

She was surprised when he offered no other arguments. He followed her back to the house in silence, clutching Benjie with a sort of desperation. The little boy shrieked with delight and clapped his hands, thrilled to be carried home by daddy. 

Rachel let herself fall just as silent as her husband as they pushed listlessly through lunch. Ronnie said nothing at all except one brief remark that Rachel wasn't eating enough. It made her lose her appetite completely and she pushed her plate away with a grimace. He was always trying to get her to eat more. Sometimes she only laughed about it, sometimes it made her mad. She felt like she ate too much. But he was always saying she was too skinny.

Benjie babbled on and on, not seeming to notice that his parents were not speaking. He pulled his sandwich apart with glee, smearing chicken salad across his face and attempting to smash a piece of the crust into his nose, after adorning his hair with the rest of his bread. Ronnie confiscated the crust without a word. Bennie pouted a moment and then his milk glass caught his interest. In another moment, the whole of it was poured down his front. He sat there at first, simply staring at his soggy sweater, and then giggled. 

"Me all wet," he announced, petting his belly with an air of satisfaction.

"Ach, baby," Rachel sighed, pushing her chair back. Ronnie rose first and scooped up the dripping baby before she reached him.

"I'll change him," he offered quietly and carried Benjie out. Rachel dropped back into her chair and stared at the remains of lunch. She stared for a long, long time. And then, not even knowing why she did it, she dropped her head into her hands and wept.

♡♡♡

She left the dishes on the table, not caring that the kitchen was a mess. She found a sweater and edged toward the front door, listening to Benjie's voice in the living room. She peeked in a moment to find him sitting on Ronnie's lap, picking with great interest at the round, black eyes of his teddy bear. Ronnie was staring vacantly into space. He did not see Rachel standing hesitantly in the doorway. And she did not see his hands tremble as he held Benjie tighter.

She slipped out the door, closing it softly behind her. An almost icy gust of autumn wind blew wildly past and she buttoned her sweater up. As she wandered off from the house, she did not take the familiar path to Emma's as she usually did, but rather, the one that meandered off into the woods. She had never gone that way before.