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you'll see that it won't be hard to live on what you are getting.” She handed me a paper.
     Call me stubborn, but I didn't spare it so much as a glance. Dan, however, dutifully picked it up and looked it over, nodding
     his approval.
    “I did put in an entry for contributions to the church…” Wilma let her sentence drift off, her eyes on her son. “That is,
     if you will be coming to church. Of course, there's no obligation…”
    Of course, there
was.
While her words were meant to let us off the hook, the raised eyebrows and the tilt of her head caught Dan neatly in a snare
     of expectations.
    “It would be wonderful if you could come.”
    “Of course we will,” Dan said, sitting back, setting the paper down. I caught the question in his eyes as he looked at me
     and I subtly shook my head.
    “I wouldn't be comfortable,” I said. “I'm not familiar with church.”
    “C'mon, Leslie. You've gone at Christmas and Easter.” Dan's awkward laugh made me nervous. “And you, your mother, and sister
     used to go when you could get…”
    “That's enough, Dan,” I said sharply, cutting off his sentence.
    Wilma's eyes darted from Dan to me and then back again, as if hoping she could weasel out what I had stopped. Not a chance.
    “Well, I hope you will reconsider coming to church.” Wilma continued, as always brisk and efficient. “And look over that budget
     and tell me what you think.”
    I already knew what I thought of it. Not much. But she was the payer and we were the payees. Powerless and puny.
    “There's one more thing. I would really like to have the family together to talk about the farm. We are in a bit of a cash
     crunch…” She paused and I immediately thought of Keith, but she rallied and forged ahead. “So if Gerrit and Dayton could
     offer us some advice, that would be helpful.”
    “That's a good idea,” Dan said.
    “Your Grandma VandeKeere has been asking after you and the kids,” Wilma said to Dan. “Once seeding is done you should go.”
    “I haven't seen her since Christmas. How is she doing?”
    Wilma leaned a bit closer, as she brought him up to speed on the care and maintenance of the family tree.
    I picked up my coffee mug and washed it out as their conversation covered all the twists and turns of names and connections
     I doubted I would ever master. I didn't feel left out. Not a bit.
    How was I going to make it for another eleven months, two weeks, and five chocolates?
    Wilma finished her coffee, wound down the conversation, then went to the living room to see Anneke and Nicholas.
    “Sorry about that church comment, Leslie,” Dan said as he set the coffee cups beside the sink. He touched me on the side of
     my neck, then pulled me close in a hug. I really needed the hug and turned gratefully to him, letting his strong arms hold
     me close. “I shouldn't have…”
    “It's okay,” I muttered against his shirt. I didn't want to talk about my past; I had my husband, I had my children. And,
     oh yes, I had a budget. But we would get through that as well.
    I leaned back, holding his face between my hands. I let my eyes linger over his blue eyes, his long nose that veered ever
     so slightly left, his high cheekbones all framed by hair that needed to be cut.
    “Hey, you,” Dan whispered, brushing a strand of hair out of my eyes.
    “Hey back.” I smiled at him. He was here, with me. He was smiling at me. He was lowering his head.
    “I'm going now,” Wilma called out. I jumped.
    He wasn't going to kiss me.
    “Thanks for coming, Mom.” Dan let go of me. Then gave Wilma my kiss.
    “Bye, Leslie,” she said, tossing me a quick wave. “Dan, I was wondering if you could have a look at my car. There's a funny
     knocking sound in the engine.”
    As they walked out the door,Wilma took him by the arm and pressed her head against his shoulder. Dan bent closer and gave
     her a hug. They talked a moment as Wilma brushed her fingers over his cheeks.
    I really wanted to give her the