I do not own The Magic of Ordinary Days.
Ray and Livy are precious.
The Magic of A Good Man
Reaching Across the Table
Dear Livy,
Mama taught me to read; Martha made me keep reading.
You made me read things I'd never considered before.
And now as you lay here in this bed, instead of worrying or fidgeting, I sit by your side.
And read.
Aloud.
To you.
It's the only thing left I have to do.
While I wait for you to wake up.
They often sit women on one side, men on the other.
He's never really ever thought to ask why.
That is just the way it is.
Propriety or some such.
Martha always says the prayer.
He doesn't know why that is either.
But it's short and simple.
And she always has something nice and encouraging and warming to say.
They always eat well.
"Pass the taters."
He never knows where the boys put it all.
But it always puts him in a better mood.
The reassuring companionship of his sister and her family.
Her and Hank, they always seem to be a united front, a beacon of hope and joy in the wilderness of marriage and life as he sees it.
It makes him smile, her gentleness with her husband, her children.
The way she smiles and laughs, takes joy of them, takes care of them.
As they take care of each . . .
"I love you, Martha."
"I love you too, Hank."
It gives him hope for Livy, hope for the baby.
Livy doesn't ever seem to talk about it, the child.
He doesn't know if she doesn't like it, prefers to keep it to herself, a woman thing.
Doesn't want to involve him in a baby that's not his, shove it in his face that it's not his.
Or maybe just doesn't want to share herself with him.
He tries not to think about the fact that she might not want the baby, like the baby, be interested in the baby.
The first day they had met, she had asked him if he could love the baby.
He supposes she wanted to know if he would able to manage the child, a child that was not his.
Manage it being in the house.
Manage it and not abuse it.
But perhaps she had not concerned herself quite so much with the actual real loving of the child.
Or perhaps it had not been quite as real to her as it is now becoming.
He isn't sure.
And he doesn't know how to work it out to be sure.
But supper with Martha and Hank, Hank Jr, and Chester.
That gives him hope.
Lets him dream that one day, he and Livy might be something like this.
Bonded, family ease, love.
It makes him smile, glance here and there, at Livy.
When he thinks she isn't looking, of course.
She might not like that.
He isn't quite sure yet.
". . . north field."
And he can practically feel weary resignation emanating from the other side of the table.
"Are you?"
Where Livy sits.
We're farmers, Livy.
It's our lives.
It's what we talk about.
". . . can't go anywhere but up."
They're both government men now, so to speak.
Doing their part for The Cause.
Him and Hank.
The government had come a'knockin'.
Food needed for the troops, for those left behind without farming skills or resources.
They're making more money than they ever have.
Not that either of them really know what to do with it.
Just put it away for a rainy day.
For their families.
The ones who came after them.
So, yes, it's what they talk about.
But he knows she grows tired of it.
She has said directly, quite recently, just that morning, he might add.
And he has been preparing for this exact opportunity.
". . . you think?"
So, carefully swallowing his bite before his throat closes up and he chokes on it, . . .
"Well, I've been thinking about . . ."
. . . he steels himself.
". . . about Troy."
And speaks.
And the whole table comes to a standstill.
Hank's generous face is bewildered, befuddled.
"Troy who?"
And Ray feels himself grin, feeling a little embarrassed.
And foolish.
And hopeful.
And knowledgeable.
"The city of. The lost one."
For once.
"Over there in Turkey."
Turkey.
The country.
Not the food.
And then he clams up, embarrassed, shyness overtaking him.
Never should have tried.
Always had a good rapport with Hank.
Always got on well.
Now he'll think I'm touched in the head.
And then Livy, Olivia, his wife Livy, . . .
"Uh, Homer wrote about it. In the Iliad."
. . . speaks up.
"No one knew if there really had been such a city."
And she's always beautiful, even when she's frowning at him.
Disapproving of him.
Wishing she hadn't agreed to . . .
". . . receptive . . ."
. . . marry him.
"Or if Troy was merely a myth."
But now, her eyes are alight, tone lighter and less trodding than he has heard in quite some time.
". . . until an archaeologist found it."
And everyone at the table, adoring Ruth included, . . .
"How do you lose a city?"
. . . is listening to her.
And Ray feels brave enough to . . .
"Under the sand."
. . . jump back in.
"They, uh, they had to excavate it."
And Hank, one of the most good-humored men Ray has ever met in his life, . . .
"Well, I'll be."
. . . seems to take it all in stride.
"We could've dug it up, Ray."
And even joshs a little.
"With the Claw."
Which makes the whole of the table laugh.
And get back to their evening meal.
"Well, I'll be."
Enough for Ray to feel safe enough to sneak a peek . . .
She's smiling.
She looks so fine when she's smiling.
. . . at his beautiful, happy wife.
And then he casts his gaze back down to his plate, satisfied he's tried and survived.
And then . . .
". . . , Ray, are you going to plant . . .?"
. . . she lets him know he's done . . .
". . . some beans this year?"
. . . very well indeed.
"I think we ought to."
And Ray feels his heart swell with appreciation.
Thank you, Livy.
And tentative hope.
They pass the rest of the afternoon in peace.
The women clear the table.
The boys disappear outside again.
He and Hank . . .
"So, I know it ain't any of my business but . . ."
. . . sit in the parlor.
". . . everything goin' alright?"
And Ray, full of good food and the miracle of the Troy conversation, . . .
"Yeah, yeah, I think so."
. . . finds it easy to smile.
"I mean, we're still . . . we're not, uh, . . ."
And Hank nods understandingly, relieving Ray from having to address certain topics any further.
"Yeah, yeah, it'll come with time. You're a good man. She's a good woman."
Ray takes this casual encouragement with more hopefulness than he's felt in a while when it comes to him and Livy.
And Hank . . .
"Never known you to be such a scholar though."
. . . joshs him a little again.
"Well, it's good to . . . consider what's beyond the farm."
"Oh, is it?"
"A little."
And then they are summoned . . .
"Well, we ladies are going to sit on the porch for a spell."
. . . by their always gracious hostess herself.
"If you gentlemen would care to join us."
And they hop right up . . .
"It'd be our pleasure."
. . . and go out . . .
"Beautiful day today."
"Yep. Just right for fishing."
. . . for a little more family time.