Once Ford got started, he didn't waste time or mince words.

"Tell me about your stuff," Ford said.

I thought about making a joke about something stupid, but Ford was looking very serious and determined, so I didn't.

I sighed, and said, "I wasn't prepared for how hard it was going to be. Anatomy's even worse than the trigonometry class, and you know how much

I hate math."

"You were told it was gonna be tough, weren't you?"

"Yes. I was. But-the reality of it-" I said, and gave a shrug of my shoulders.

"Are you failing?"

"Pretty close to it," I admitted.

"What's the issue? Test scores or what?"

"Yeah. And the quizzes. And Mr. Price says I was missing two homework assignments, but I don't remember not handing stuff in."

Ford questioned me more. About why I hadn't done well on tests and scores. About asking for a chance to make up the missing

assignments-

"I did ask Mr. Price about doing extra credit," I said. "He said just shape up and then I might make it thru okay."

"He won't let you do extra credit?" Ford asked.

I shook my head. Ford looked thoughtful for a few moments, and was quiet.

"Well, how come you're not passing the tests?" he finally asked.

I hesitated, scanning the sunny horizon before I looked back to my left to Ford.

"Truth?" I asked.

"Of course the truth," he said.

"Well-I've just been having some fun, and I haven't been studying enough, I guess. And, sometimes, Mr. Price springs a quiz on us."

"He doesn't give you any heads up at all?" Ford asked, looking doubtful at my statement.

"Well-yeah, he does, but a couple of times I got busy and thought it was the day after the day it really was."

Ford listened to that long comment and then said, "Do you want to turn things around? Or no?"

"What kind of question is that," I said. And I didn't make mine a question.

"It's a direct one," Ford said. "So answer it."

"Of course I do."

"It doesn't sound to me like you're doing much about that at all," Ford said.

"Ouch, Ford," I said.

"I told you-" he began.

"I know. You told me you would tell me what you really thought," I sighed.

"You're just coasting, and putting stuff off, and actin' like Scarlett O'Hara in that movie," Ford said.

"You mean, Gone With the Wind?" I demanded.

"Yeah. That one."

"How am I acting like Scarlett O'Hara? She's not nice at all-she's spoiled and selfish-" I gave Ford a hurt look. "Is that what you think of

me?"

"Of course not, goofy. I mean-she puts stuff off until tomorrow. Always tomorrow."

"Oh," I said, slightly mollified. Then lightly, I added, "I wouldn't mind looking like her, though. She's really pretty-"

"We aren't talking about how pretty someone is or isn't," Ford said, managing to sound severe.

I rolled my eyes at him, but he plowed on.

"You're gonna mess up big here, Har," he said. "You've got to get a grip right now."

"I know," I said.

"When do grades come out?" he asked.

"A week and a half or so, and progress reports come out."

"You need to buckle down. And you need to talk to Crane. Or Adam," he said.

I knew he was right, and it was Sunday afternoon. I'd told myself that on Sunday afternoon I would talk to Crane.

"Okay," I said, admitting defeat.

"Today. This afternoon," Ford said.

"Yeah. Okay." I gave him a hopeful look. "How late are you staying today? Can you hang out while I talk to them?"

"That's not really gonna help you any," Ford said, but I could tell he was going to give in.

"It will, though, Ford. You're my emotional support. Please?"

"Yeah. Okay," he conceded.

7

When we got back to the house and were putting the horses away, Brian, who'd been tinkering under the hood of the Jeep, called me over.

"Yeah, Bri?" I asked, hoisting my bridle over my shoulder.

"Ready to do some of your chores?" he asked.

"I did my chores already," I told him, puzzled.

"Extra chores. Remember? You got to go to the dance last night. Today you have some chores."

I felt myself droop. Oh, yeah. From my making that snarky comment to him on the telephone where he thought I was pitting him and Adam

against each other...

"Oh," I said.

Brian was giving one of those looks, and I said, "Yes. I remember."

I guess Brian had up his antenna because he tilted his head and said, "What's the matter? You seem sort of down in the mouth."

"I'm okay," I said.

"Just tired after last night, huh?" he asked. He didn't seem stern at all, just more affable, and I took a chance.

"A little tired," I said. "But, it's not that, really. What are my chores?"

"You can start cleaning out the spare shed. Make piles of what looks like trash, or what you're not sure about, and I'll go thru it."

"Okay," I said. That would take hours, I knew. Even if I just started it, as he'd said, it would take most of the afternoon.

So, on with that chance.

"Do I need to finish it all today?" I asked.

"I doubt if you'll get done today," Brian said.

"Okay." I looked towards the house. "Is Crane in the house?"

"I think so. He's leaving to go somewhere in a few minutes."

"Oh," I said, nibbling at my lower lip and considering when to talk to Crane. Ford came up to where Brian and I were talking.

"Crane's getting ready to leave, I guess," I told Ford.

"He is?"

"Yeah," I said, and Ford and and I exchanged a knowing look between us. "What do you think?" I asked Ford.

"That's up to you," Ford said. "Maybe find out how long before he'll be back."

"Okay," I said, and saw Brian watching our exchange, no doubt wondering, but he didn't ask anything.

"I need to talk to Crane," I said, in explanation.

Brian gave a brief nod. As we were talking then, Crane came out the front door of the house, and down the steps, and I could tell

he had keys in his hand.

"I'll go ask him," I told Ford. Now Guthrie was bursting out of the barn, hollaring to Ford.

"Ready to go to Butch's?" Guthrie was asking Ford.

I gave Ford a panicked look. "Wait a minute," I said.

"I'll wait," Ford said, and to Guthrie he added, "Hang on a minute."

I walked over to meet Crane where he was preparing to get into the old farm pickup.

"Hey," Crane said, in greeting, opening the truck door, and pausing.

"Hi."

"What's up?"

"Can I talk to you? Sometime today?" I asked.

"Yeah. Sure, you can. You want to talk now?" Crane offered.

"Well," I hesitated. "You're going somewhere, right?"

"Yeah. Meeting Ivy for lunch," he said.

"Oh. Well, I don't want you to be late," I said, considering.

"I've got a couple minutes," he said.

I would have liked to say that I would only need to talk for a couple minutes to Crane about school and grades, but I knew, realistically, there was no way

that would happen.

"Probably need more than that," I told him.

"Okay," he said, and gave me a questioning sort of a look. "Everything alright?"

"Well-it's not exactly about something good," I told him, in honesty.

"Oh. Well, alright. I should be back by three or so. Will that work?" he asked.

"Yeah, that's good," I said, thinking that would give me a few hours to get my thoughts and words straight before I talked to him. Or

confessed, or whatever you want to call it.

"Alright. See you later, then," Crane said.

"See you," I echoed, and walked back over to Ford, Brian and Guthrie beside the Jeep. Crane pulled out, with a wave.

To Ford, I said, "He says he'll be back around three."

Ford nodded, and Guthrie said, impatiently, "So? Are we on for pool or what?" to Ford.

"After lunch we'll go in and play a game or two," Ford told him.

"But then you'll come home, right?" I prodded. I did not want to have the impending talk without Ford there with me.

"Yeah. I'll be back by then," Ford said.

Clare came out onto the porch, calling out to all of us that lunch was ready.

We all went inside, and ate the simple Sunday lunch of roast beef sandwiches and potato salad. As soon as they'd eaten, Guthrie and Ford

headed out, to go to Butch's. Ford let his hand rest on my shoulder as he walked behind my chair.

Since Evan and Nancy were with her father today, and with Guthrie and Ford gone, along with Crane, that left me there, at the table, with

Adam and Hannah, and Brian and Clare.

"What's your plans the rest of the afternoon?" Hannah was asking Adam.

"I don't think I'll do a darn thing," Adam said. "Read the paper, and that's it."

"Good," Hannah said, looking glad. "We can take a walk then. Before Isaac gets up from his nap."

"A walk, huh?" Adam asked, smiling at her.

I got up, scooting in my chair, and taking my plate to the sink. I paused beside Brian's chair.

"If I work a couple of hours, is that alright?" I asked him. "I've got some homework I need to do."

"That's fine," Brian said.

I went outside, and put myself to work on the spare shed. It's not very large. But, it was chock full of stuff. Some of it was ridiculous, like

empty feed sacks. I toted stuff out, making what I thought was a trash pile. I got an old broom and swept up that half of the shed.

Adam came to the doorway, looking in. "Looks better already," he told me.

I brushed back a mass of my hair, and said, "It's pretty messy."

"Yeah," he said, in agreement.

"Well, guess I'd better catch Hannah for that walk," he said, and moved to leave.

"Adam," I said, and he paused, his hand on the door frame.

"What?"

"When Crane gets back I'm going to be talking to him," I said. "Can I talk to you, too? At the same time?"

"Yeah. Sure," Adam said.

"Okay. Thanks," I said, and started sweeping again.

Adam went on his way, and I finished what I thought I would get done today with the shed clean-up. After that I went into the house,

and went upstairs, taking a shower, and then I came back downstairs, to grab my backpack.

Brian and Clare were sitting on one of the couches, looking over the Sears catalog together. I could see they were looking at baby

clothes and things.

"How'd it go?" Brian asked me, and I knew he meant my progress on the shed cleanup.

"Maybe half done," I said. "I left a pile of trash outside, like you said."

Brian nodded, and I went to get my backpack from where I'd set it beside one of the chairs.

"You can sit down here and do your homework," Clare told me. "We'll be quiet, won't we, Brian?"

"Quiet as a mouse," Brian said.

"Okay," I said, and curled up on the end of the other couch, pulling out my anatomy book, and notebook paper. I worked steadily, doing my

definitions worksheet, and after that, I reread a couple of the past chapters, to review.

I was working on an article for my journalism class, and hadn't even taken a break when there were loud voices and boots scuffling on

the front porch. Guthrie and Ford came in, laughing and shoving each other.

"How was the pool game?" Brian asked them, with interest.

"I cleaned Ford's clock," Guthrie bragged.

"Yeah, yeah," Ford said, with a roll of his eyes.

Ford came over and sank down beside me on the couch. I stopped what I was doing, and closed up my notebooks and books, and after that, just

sat quietly, listening to Ford and Brian talking. Guthrie came back from the kitchen, a fat sandwich in one hand, and he sat down, too. We could hear

Isaac crying upstairs, and Clare got up to go up and see about him.

Adam and Hannah came walking thru from the kitchen, and Adam had his perpetual cup of coffee in his hand.

"How's Isaac?" Hannah asked Brian.

"He's awake. Clare went up," Brian told her.

"Okay, I'll go up, too," Hannah said. She gave Adam a smile and went upstairs.

"Guess I better get up and get moving," Brian said. "How about you help me clean up the trash that Harlie hauled out of the shed, Guth?"

"I'm still eatin'," Guthrie protested, holding up what was left of his sandwich.

"You can finish it walking out there," Brian said. He stood up. "Come on."

Guthrie sighed, but got up, and followed Brian out the front door, the screen flapping closed.

Adam sat down next to me, sipping at his coffee. He put his free hand on my knee and patted it.

"Last night was a pretty good night, huh?" he asked me.

"It really was," I said. I leaned into his side a little, thinking I would enjoy his positive, undivided attention for as long as I could.

7