The Daughter's Walk - Jane Kirkpatrick [98]
“Sorry,” he said and lowered his voice, but old habits die hard, and he soon shouted again. “I’ll meet the train on the fifteenth,” he shouted. His voice quieted down again on the phone with me. “I’m looking forward to seeing you,” he said, “and hearing firsthand about your progress. I intend to see if I can make progress of my own.”
His words fell into silence, then I said, “Every man ought to have good intentions.” I said good-bye, then hung up.
I dragged the trunk from the attic, ironed shirtwaists, and brushed Lucy and Lucky’s hair from the linen. Franklin and I would be gone no more than four weeks. There were too many demands here at home. I’d contacted the real estate agent and told him to sell the Alta Vista property too. Those were impulsive buys. I’d need to sign papers for that.
Two nights before I was to leave, I passed by Olea’s room on the first floor and saw her trunk packed too. I wondered where she was going.
“I had no idea you planned to go to Finland too,” I told Olea and Louise. We stood in the living room, Lucky relegated to the back porch. He was happier there anyway, as the house heated up by late afternoon while the porch remained in the shade of maples and elms. Lucy curled on the divan. “I mean, all of us travel abroad? What about this place? Our home?” The air had begun to cool enough that I’d stopped sweating while I packed. I perspired now for other reasons. The scent of coffeecake filled the air, and the sky was magnificent with frothy clouds like shattered silk kissing the coulee ridges.
“The farm takes care of itself,” Olea said.
“Yes, but our boarders. There’s no time to hire a cook, and the animals—”
“The pastor’s wife will look after Lucy,” Louise said. “And Lucky can go to … What’s their name again, on the farm?” I told her our sharecropper’s name. “Yes. And the boarders can eat at the restaurant. The house will be fine.”
“We’re interested in what might come of your fur ranching plans,” Olea said. “My cousin in Norway writes that they’ve had success in crossing an Icelandic arctic fox with Norwegian reds. They raise the kits on islands. We intend to visit both Norway and Finland. It would be a waste of time not to.”
In my conversations about making the trip, Olea and Louise had never once said they planned to go along. I knew they loved to travel. I should have anticipated. “You’ve never indicated much support for my fur ranching idea,” I said.
“That was before I learned that Norwegians were doing it,” Olea said. “I’d only heard about the Finns, and frankly, I was a little suspect of that. But Norwegians are a very persistent people. If we can do it, then it can be done elsewhere. We told you that going abroad should have been the first thing you did rather than wasting your time with your trapping period. Now we can all go.”
“I always like to travel,” Louise said. She watched my face, glanced at Olea, then back to me. “But of course, if you don’t want to bother with two old women tagging along, well, I understand that.” She glanced back at Olea again, then looked at her hands.
“It’s not the bother,” I said. “It’s. Well, Franklin and I worked the expenses out. I’m paying for this trip. We’ll go first to Finland and then visit manufacturing houses in Europe. We only plan to be gone about four weeks.”
“It’ll take nearly that long by ship to get there,” Olea said, disgusted with my naiveté. She exaggerated. “If you’re going, you ought to make it worth your time. Three months at a minimum. We’ve worked everything out,” Olea added.
She didn’t name her annoyance, and I couldn’t find words for mine either. Traveling with them would be an adventure. It always was, and yet I didn’t want them along.
I must have scowled, because Louise said, “Let’s not be too hasty, Olea. These are things we didn’t consider. Maybe Clara and Franklin, well, maybe they wanted time … together. We might not have thought of that.”
“They can be alone all they want except