through the fabric, wondering what caused the
tear.
As she sewed, the glimpse of a memory came to mind. The first thing she remembered was
feeling apprehensive, and yet, she was happy—happier than she’d ever been, if she recal ed
the memory right. The second thing she remembered was an image of a flour sack that she
was making into something. She wondered what it was. The last thing she recal ed was the
smel of earth, and that particular smel wasn’t anywhere in the house. She wondered what it
meant. If she was nervous but happy, it couldn’t be a bad memory. Of that, she was sure.
And though she didn’t see or hear Dave anywhere in the glimpse she had, she suspected it had
something to do with him.
She continued to sew, holding onto the glimpse of her past as much as she could. But it slipped
away too soon, and she was left with a restless feeling. Sighing, she pushed it aside so she
could finish the task.
The dog barked and she looked over her shoulder to see Dave coming out of the barn with the
mutt. Upon seeing his father, Isaac forgot al about looking for a frog and ran over to him. The
dog leapt around Isaac who petted him and laughed. She smiled, thinking something seemed
familiar about the scene but unable to pinpoint what.
With a sigh, she turned back to the pocket and pul ed the needle through the fabric to finish
mending it. Perhaps that was how things would be for a while. She’d get feelings and
glimpses here and there, and most of it wouldn’t make sense.
Once her task was done, she put her things away in her sewing kit and stood up. Holding the
dol , Rachel rose to her feet and looked up at her. From this, Mary surmised that while Isaac
fol owed his father around, Rachel stuck with her. She opened the front door and asked, “Do
you want to help me start lunch?”
She stared at her as if she didn’t understand her.
“Cook. You help me?” Mary asked.
“Yes. Help.”
“Wel , come on in then.” Mary opened the storm door and waited for Rachel to waddle in
before she fol owed her into the house.
***
That night as Mary tucked Isaac into bed, he looked up at her and asked, “Do you remember
me yet, Ma?”
Wishing she remembered more than what she had that afternoon, she sighed. “I don’t recal
much of anything, Isaac. I did, however, get a smal piece of memory earlier today when you
ran over to your pa and Jasper as they came out of the barn.”
His eyes lit up. “Real y?”
“Now, it was just a smal piece. Very smal .” There was no sense in making him believe it was
more than it was. “And it wasn’t an actual memory to be honest. It was a feeling. I think you
spend a lot of time with your pa. Am I right?”
“I like to help him with chores.”
“Then that’s what I picked up on. So, I seem to be getting things, but it’s slow and I can’t
control when it happens. Can you be patient with me as I get my memory back?”
“Of course, I can, Ma,” he said in a serious tone that surprised her.
“You take your responsibilities seriously, don’t you?”
“Sure I do. Respectabilities are important.”
Grinning at the way he mispronounced the word, she leaned forward and kissed him on the
forehead. “You’re a good boy, Isaac. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Ma.”
She dimmed the light on the kerosene lamp so the room wasn’t so bright and then shut the door
almost al the way, keeping in mind to leave it a crack open as he requested the first night she
tucked him in. She went to the other bedroom and checked on Rachel who was fast asleep in
the crib. Smiling, she shut the door. Even if she didn’t remember them, she did love them.
How could she not? They were adorable. It felt as if she’d wanted children. At least, that was
the feeling she detected whenever she looked at them.
She went to her bedroom, closed the door, and slipped into her nightshirt once she removed
her clothes. As she walked to the window, she studied the sky.