Alice Bliss - Laura Harrington [22]
“Where do you get these little tips?” Alice asks.
“Bobby DiFiori in the fourth grade likes to watch CNN.”
“And he talks about this stuff?!”
“On the playground. At recess.”
“Oh, my God . . .”
Angie pulls up to the Holschers’ farmhouse and beeps the horn, like it’s a prearranged signal. Edna comes out the front door and Hank walks up from behind the barn. They’re both wearing muck boots and barn jackets and grinning from ear to ear.
Mom makes introductions, and Edna walks right up and takes Ellie by the hand.
“Mrs. Holscher . . .” Ellie begins.
“Call me Edna.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
They all follow Edna and Ellie to the barn, all the way down the central aisle to the last stall on the left.
Hank unhooks the door.
“Go ahead.”
Inside the stall, in knee deep straw is a mama goat and three brand new baby kids, nursing.
Ellie goes right to her knees, beside them.
“They were born yesterday afternoon,” Hank offers. “Triplets. Can you beat that?”
“Can I touch them?” Ellie can barely contain her excitement.
“Sure.”
“The mama won’t mind?”
“Let her see you. Go slow,” Edna says.
“What’s her name?” Alice asks.
“Goldie.”
“Hi, Goldie,” Alice says, stroking her nose.
“Can I hold one?” Ellie asks.
“As soon as they’re done nursing, they’ll be climbing all over you.”
Ellie is petting the baby goats and Alice joins her while Angie, Edna, and Hank watch them.
“They’re so cute. Can we bring one home?”
“They’re gonna get big, Ellie.”
“I don’t care.”
“We’ve picked out two names for the babies so far,” Edna says. “Blondie and Walden. Got any good ideas for the third kid?”
Ellie considers.
“What kind of goats are they?” Alice asks.
“LaManchas. Milk goats from Spain. They’re friendly, easy to handle, and great producers. You like goat’s milk?” Hank asks.
“I don’t know, I’ve never tried it.”
“I like it,” Ellie announces.
“You’ve never had it either!”
“I can just tell.”
“Can you tell who’s who?” Angie asks.
“The gray one is Walden. The sandy colored one is Blondie. And the one with the white feet needs a name.”
“Niblets,” Ellie says.
“Niblets it is.” Hank laughs.
“Really?”
The kids finish nursing and, just like Edna said, they climb all over the girls, nibbling their fingers, rubbing their heads against them. Ellie is giggling.
“I can’t believe how soft they are,” Alice says.
“Hi, Niblets,” Ellie whispers into the white-footed kid’s ear, as she hugs him against her.
“We’ve got baby lambs and new chicks, too, if you want to see them,” Hank says.
“Maybe later,” Ellie says, in a dreamy voice.
“C’mon in the house when you’re ready. Just be sure to latch the stall door.”
Alice looks up and smiles at her mom; just a wide-open uncomplicated happy kid smile. Angie bursts into a laugh.
“They’re great, aren’t they?”
“Yeah. Really great.”
Hank puts his arm around Angie’s shoulder as the grown-ups turn to leave the barn.
“I made pineapple upside down cake,” Edna calls back to them. “And you can try some goat’s milk when you come inside.”
April 4th
Matt’s letters are finally starting to arrive. Sometimes in a bunch, sometimes just one for Angie. He writes Angie every day he’s not out on patrol.
Ellie collects the mail from the mailbox after school and puts everything on the hall table. Alice and Ellie never open anything until Angie gets home, no matter how tempting. After work, Angie pours herself a glass of wine and they all sit in the living room to open the letter, or letters if they’re lucky. If there’s only one, one for Mom, she’ll read the sections she feels she can share or things Dad asks her to tell them.
Tell Ellie we get M & Ms in our ration packets. Some of them are dated 1992.
Tell Eddie there’s a 21-year-old kid named Lewis from West Virginia who has a 1982 Ford Mustang. He’s planning on going to all the hotrod shows when he gets home. And there’s this new kid named Chad. 19. Hell of a poker player. He’s from Wyoming and he loves Texas Hold ’Em. He laughs and laughs every time he takes his buddies’ money.