When You Wake Up

Savvie Bolton stared down from the edge of the hayloft. Dust particles played in the sunbeams and she slowly swung her dangling feet through them. The stillness was perfect. Her body felt satisfied, warm and heavy, and her mind felt happily empty. A boot scooted to either side of her legs at the same time a pair of arms wrapped around her shoulders. Adam snuggled up behind her and kissed her ear. She enjoyed hearing him breathe, the slow contented sighs that were so different from the urgent panting of a few minutes ago. She was especially glad that at moments like this he said nothing. She knew he would not have opted for silence if he could have come up with the right thing to say. Thankfully he had resorted to whatever message he could give Savvie by holding her. It was a well-won victory after the many awkward and painful times when both of them fumbled through what they thought they should say or do afterwards. See, she told her heart, we have reached this place where we understand each other. Her happiness in this thought invariably led to the reason why she insisted on recognizing it in the first place—because before, years ago in what felt like another dimension, they hadn’t had to try at all. It had come so naturally, and it wasn’t silence. It was words, beautifully whispered perfect words, accompanied by touches that knew where to go. But she must not think of that. She forced her mind back to Adam, to the love she knew he felt for her, that he had just shown her with his body, in the best way he knew how. Yes, they had come a long way. Loading the dishwasher several hours later, Savvie found herself wondering when lovemaking in the afternoon had ceased to feel adventurous. Was it the routine of the farm? Was it familiarity with each other? Was it the fact that she was married and therefore no longer breaking what she had seen for an entire lifetime as the highest moral rule? Savvie was raised in a good home where, for the most part, her parents practiced what they preached. She hadn’t realized until she was out in the world for several years, that what she thought of as normal the rest of the world thought of as great. When had a regular marriage, where parents got along, come to be the exception to the rule? She had tried to laugh it off when her mother Janice had talked to her about sex. Any pre-teen would. But when time stretched on and she looked back and realized that was the only occasion her mother ever broached the topic, she decided maybe it was important. “It’s a beautiful thing,” Janice had said, “but be careful with it. Powerful things have powerful rules. Give it only to the one you’re staying with forever, the one you marry.” Except she hadn’t. The guilt had always been there, along with the beauty. She hadn’t planned it that way. A part of her truly wished she could feel regret. It was all fine now though. Married at last. She still liked to say the words “my” and “husband” in the same sentence. It had been three years since she said her vows, insisting on them reading such that they could answer “I do” instead of “I will”, so that every little detail of her lifelong dream could be realized. Well, not every detail, she had to admit. But those over which she had control she had seen to with energy and devotion. Adam Bolton had lived on the farm all his life. It wasn’t so much that he loved it as that it simply was life. He had that easy going acceptance that Savvie both admired and found frustrating. He applied logic to life where she wanted to insert dreams. She had to admit that their finances did not permit moving at this time, but she needed to have Adam accept that she didn’t like the farm. She supposed he wanted her to be grateful that he had provided a home for them. The dream of buying something new as a married couple didn’t seem to rank in Adam’s mind. A solid roof over their heads did. The part of Savvie that wanted to be the best wife possible told her to be thankful to Adam. Somehow it didn’t come out that way. She would stay on the farm, but he had to be ok with her not liking it. At least it wasn’t an operating farm. She couldn’t imagine getting up at the crack of dawn and taking care of livestock. Tucked into the gently rolling hills of southern Minnesota, the 62-year old farm no longer supported the dairy cows it once had. It was close enough to the small city of Paynesville to not feel remote either, something that was important to Savvie. Adam worked hard to maintain the buildings, and that did cause admiration. Savvie certainly didn’t contribute equally there. Unlike her husband, Savvie hadn’t grown up in Paynesville. Far from it. She was born and raised in Canada, where the cold was extreme and the mosquitos were worse. She had extended family on both sides of the border, and had crossed it countless times in her younger years. She liked to brag to Adam about going only as far as her back yard to find wild blueberries, and having once actually seen a moose on the side of the road. But she found that now she loved Minnesota, and had no longing to go back to her roots. However, a farmer she was not. They both still had the jobs they had when they first met—he a nurse at the County Hospital and she a kindergarten teacher—but the farm had come to them through family inheritance and Adam wouldn’t hear of embarking on the tedious journey of declining it. And why should he? He was the kind of person who accepted his lot and always saw the bright side. He was patient and hardworking. Those were good qualities, Savvie told herself on numerous occasions. It just wouldn’t hurt if the man could dream a little.