4. Finding a Way

Finding a Way

After school, Hadley fell into the routine of eating a snack and completing her homework, which often included civil war history worksheets, complicated math word problems, or persuasive essay prompts on topics that didn't interest her. After her homework was done, she spent the afternoon pointlessly waiting for her father to get home, never knowing what she should or shouldn't be doing. Sitting on the couch always stressed her out, as if her father would burst through the door at the exact moment she turned the television on, roll his eyes, and call her lazy. Instead, she took to aimlessly meandering, lost in her thoughts. I miss Mom. As she made laps around the main level of her house, she would notice dishes left out, pillows askew, or junk piling up. She did her best to tidy up, though never quite certain where things belonged or the right way to clean.

Her father was scheduled to work until 5 pm daily but it was not uncommon for a job to keep him late into the evening. Other days she clocked him arriving home much earlier than expected, sometimes before school let out. I wonder if Dad gets in trouble or if he's being mean at work so his boss makes him leave. He never used to be so angry, but if I ask why he's home he'll probably freak.

Ultimately, Hadley no longer felt a sense of security without the support of a stable parent. When alone, the walls started to close in around her and the overwhelming silence rang loud in her ears. She was drowning in grief with no one to care.

She wished she could walk next door, to where her best friend Sadie used to live, and hide until the pain went away. That house was full of happy memories, many of which included her mom. Hadley and Sadie grew up together. As a toddler, Hadley would waddle alongside her mom who couldn't wait to show up next door with two mugs of coffee and a round of morning gossip. Sadie and Hadley would giggle at their moms' feet while they played with a Fisher Price Little People barn set or a chatter telephone pull toy. As they grew up, they became inseparable. Where Hadley was quiet, Sadie was boisterous. Where Sadie led, Hadley followed.

Hadley's first heartbreak came two summers ago when Sadie and her family moved to North Carolina. It was only then when Hadley realized she had no other friends. Too shy to make new ones, Hadley clung to her mom and the Pink Ladies that much more. Now, without Sadie, her mom, or Friday nights with the Ladies, she felt a loneliness that constantly churned in the deepest part of her stomach.

That churning intensified when walking down the school hallway or while sitting on the bus. She was used to sitting alone, but while her classmates used to smile politely as they passed her row, they now avoided her entirely. No one knew how to interact with the weird, sad girl with a dead mom. She used to sit at the aisle and eagerly wait for an opportunity to be included, but now she sat against the window, with her backpack filling up the empty space beside her.

She would ignore the fun everyone was having, pretending not to notice she was always excluded from the stories and laughter. One afternoon her head, often resting against the window, lifted when a small farm came into sight. Farms in Rhode Island were rare, so it was weird she never noticed this one before. In the days that followed she started to look forward to seeing the horses freely roaming across the fields. I wonder if their coats are as soft as they look. The drive by was always brief and every day she longed for more.

One Tuesday, after she walked down her gravel driveway toward her barren house, she decided she would drop her backpack in the hallway and head out for a walk to that farm. I wonder if I'm allowed to leave. Dad never said I couldn't… I'm pretty sure Mom would've wanted to come with me so I'm not alone, though, but Dad isn't home. Plus he definitely wouldn't want to walk with me. What were Mom's rules when we used to leave the house? Look both ways. Lock the door. Don't talk to strangers. Don't walk up to someone's car. Pausing in the doorway, Hadley focused on the rules on repeat in her head before she stepped out onto the concrete front porch.

She followed her bus route until she walked up to a wooden fence that bordered the rolling acreage of farmland. She climbed up and sat on a section of beaten wood, her feet gently resting on the middle rail of fencing. She took in the scene before her.

When she squinted her focus, she spotted a few cows grazing further back in the field near an open style wooden shelter with a green tin roof. There were four horses roaming near an old wooden barn in the center of the field and two dark brown horses grazing on a patch of grass near her. She wanted to slide down the fence to be closer to them, but decided to stay put just in case they weren't friendly.

Breaking her gaze from the horses, she noticed a beaten dirt path that bordered the inside of the wooden fence that seemed to encompass the entire farm. There were a few oak trees scattered throughout the expanse and a patch of apple trees behind a small white ranch house. On the side of the house, Hadley spotted two vibrant flower gardens, one a sea of purple and the other a mix of pinks and reds. She sat on that fence for what felt like hours taking it all in.

Hadley walked to the farm the next few days after school, finding solace sitting on the fence and watching the animals roam. The fresh air felt restorative and led to the occasional fleeting moment of weightlessness between her otherwise harrowing grief.

By day six, Hadley decided to head down the grassy field toward the old red and white barn. The grass smelled fresh and as she approached the barn; her hand gently traced the top of the various pieces of spare fence posts leant against the building. Looking around, she noticed three small kittens, all white with gray patches, drinking milk from a metal saucer that was set under a wooden overhang along the barn. She smiled and whispered, "Omigosh you're so cute." She reached down to pet them but stopped herself. Up close they looked fluffy but delicate, small enough to be crafted from a thin glass that would crack if touched. She knew the feeling.

Her eyes wandered until they settled on the small house adjacent to the barn. The house, with peeling white paint, had faded yellow shutters and a screen door that hung crooked on its hinges. She slowly walked over and with an unexpected courage, walked onto the porch. She stood in place, debating what to do next. She held her hand up to knock before quickly pulling it back against her body. This is crazy; I should go.

"Why, hello there." Hadley startled and spun around to see an old woman with long gray hair wearing an oversized burgundy button-down shirt and mud-stained Levi jeans. "Can I help you?" the old lady asked as she pulled off her gardening gloves, shoving them into her back pocket. Her voice was inviting, and Hadley sighed with relief.

"Hi, um, I'm sorry to just walk onto your farm like this," Hadley stuttered. Why the heck am I here? She probably thinks I'm lost or can't find my parents. If only she knew. She hoped she wouldn't have to explain since the wounds on her heart were still raw.

"Not to worry, dear," the old lady said. "I just finished tending to my lavender verbena patch and was gonna put a pot of water on the stove for some tea. Why don't you come in a while. I'm sure I can find a packet of hot chocolate to make you."

Hadley's eyes lit up. Her mom used to make her hot chocolate on occasion before they snuggled up to watch an afternoon wintertime movie. Her mom called them day dates. Hadley loved when a lazy day came around, with the hope that a day date would form. They had a lot of them toward the end, since her mom was too weak to do much else. It wasn't too cold for October, brisk at best, but hot chocolate sounded perfect.

Hadley thanked her and stepped inside the small farmhouse, which smelled like burnt wood and chocolate chips. This is way cozier than it looked from the fence. She peered around the corner to see green shag carpeting and two overstuffed beige couches in a sunken living room. There was a small box television sitting to the right of a large rectangular window and a cast iron wood burning stove to the left. Along the back wall was a bookcase with books stacked haphazardly and several framed black and white photos.

Hadley turned back toward the front door and slipped off her cherry patterned Dr. Scholls sandals, a departure from her usual white Keds, and set them on the braided burnt orange mat. She picked them out with her mom before seventh grade last year and planned to wear them, faded soles and all, until they broke down entirely. She walked tentatively straight ahead toward the boxy kitchen. The walls were a dirty white with a blue checkered wallpaper along the top. Hadley approached the sun faded table and pulled out a chair with a yellow floral-patterned cushion tied to it. She sat down as the old lady poured her a cup of hot water and handed her a spoon and a packet of Swiss Miss.

Hadley jumped when she felt something rub against her bare leg, but quickly giggled when she realized it was just a cat. She reached down to pet the fat gray furball, who pressed its head into her palm wanting more.

"So, dear, what brings you ‘round these parts?"

Looking up from the cat at her feet, Hadley noticed the old lady's eyes were a calming chestnut shade and her skin was wrinkled and spotted from the sun. She looks a little older than Grandma and Nonna would be. "Well, um, my mom died a few months ago…" Hadley mumbled as she poured her cocoa packet into the water. Why did I say that? "She had cancer. And, um, I thought I would try taking a walk, you know, to help clear my head. I can't stop missing her." Hadley was relieved to see the woman nod along as she listened with a gentle smile on her face. "I walked from my house across the river and up the dirt road that leads to your farm. I ended up sitting on the fence and watching your animals."

Hadley stopped stirring her drink and immediately panicked. Oh no. Is that trespassing? Why would I say I sat on the fence? "I hope you don't mind! I swear I was careful and never got too close to any animal or anything." Hadley awkwardly reached down seeking comfort from the fat cat only to find the space around her feet unoccupied. She looked back up, wrapping her hands around the heated mug, and continued, "Um, so how many animals do you have?"

The old lady let out a gentle chuckle that matched the kindness in her eyes. "Oh, about six horses, I reckon, and four dairy cows. We used to have chickens when Harold, my husband, was alive, but I eventually had to sell them."

"That's so cool! I mean, not the part about your husband or the chickens, but the horses and cows. They seem so carefree."

"Oh yeah," the old lady responded. "They're amazin' creatures. Sure are exhaustin' though without the help of my Harold," she sipped her tea, fogging up the space between them. "Anyway, I'm Dorothy, dear, what might your name be?"

Hadley was embarrassed that she never introduced herself. "My name is Hadley. I live right up the road. I guess I already said that part." She watched as Dorothy leaned in slightly with a wrinkled brow. "I just turned thirteen and don't worry, my dad knows I'm here." She knew better than to lie, but she didn't want to worry Dorothy, or worse, have her ask to call her dad. The old lady seemed content with her white lie and they continued to talk for the better part of an hour. Hadley thought about how nice it was to be talking with a woman again, even though it made her miss her mom even more. She was happy to have found someone who wasn't actively avoiding her.

She learned that Dorothy's husband, Harold, died two years ago, so she was also mourning. She even started wearing his old work shirts to help keep him near to the heart. Dorothy shared how they never had kids of their own so they invested their livelihood into the farmland. Dorothy used to show horses when she was younger but now spends her time maintaining the land and animals, offering horseback riding lessons on the weekend, and selling homemade pies at a local market on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Her husband's family made a name for themselves as dairy farmers out west and gifted them cows for their wedding. "You'd think it would be one weird wedding gift, but Harold was thrilled. I was excited, too, to grow our farm. It was a process to learn dairy farmin' though." Dorothy smiled sentimentally as she took another sip from her hot tea. "Well, Miss Hadley, it's been lovely talking to you, but I better get back to work before the sun dips." Dorothy stood up, collected their mugs, and walked them to the sink.

"You, too, Ma'am. My dad's not much for talking and I don't have any aunts or sisters, so you know…"

"Us ladies have to stick together," Dorothy responded with a wink and a smile that deepened the lines bracketing her mouth. "First things first, though, none of that ma'am business. Ma'am was my mama."

Hadley giggled as she shook her head, "Got it. No ma'am." She stood up from the table and gently tucked her chair back in place.

"If you're lookin' for some gal time, I'd love to have some help ‘round here. Sure doesn't get easier as you get older." Hadley saw at that moment Dorothy had a slightly bent frame. "I could even teach ya how to ride the horses if that'd interest ya."

"Oh! I would love that!" Hadley wore a toothy smile on her face at the thought of regular interactions with the kind old lady.

"If it's okay with your dad, why don't you stop by on Thursday and we'll tour ya ‘round them horses," Dorothy said. "He could come, too, if he wants to see where you'll be hangin' out."

"Awesome, thanks so much. My dad will probably be at work, but I'll let him know. I can't wait to come back after school on Thursday." Hadley slipped her sandals back on and left with a slight pep in her step. She had no intention of asking her dad for permission, knowing that when she got home, she'd quickly become invisible again. The reality of it all sent anxiety coursing through her veins like water from a spigot.

Stuck, Hadley took a sizable breath in and held it. Just count. Count and you'll be okay. She held her breath past twenty as the lack of oxygen pierced her lungs. She forced herself to exhale and start moving, making her way back through the grassy field toward her house one step at a time.

Hadley's first wave of anxiety crashed through her after her mom and dad sat her down to explain why her mom had been so sick lately. Shortly after that, Hadley started counting how long she could hold her breath, trying to cling to and feel the fullness for as long as possible. She thought it would help her stay calm but eventually she started to need to feel the pressure in her chest that built with every held breath. It wasn't until she felt lightheaded and often saw streaks of blue behind her shut eyes that she would convince herself to exhale.

Focusing on her breath, she looked at the horses and wondered which one she would be riding in a few days. I wonder what kind of help Dorothy is going to need, she thought, after regaining her composure. It can't be too hard if Dorothy's been doing it by herself. Maybe spending time away from home will help me stop missing Mom so much. Maybe it'll be fun.

With the smallest of smiles, Hadley decided she would learn how to feel happy again.