I Started Out Roasting a Pig

"But you really turn me on, so let's save ourselves about four months and stress test my mattress. If you bang me and bail, I'll just chalk it up to experience."

I did bail, about twelve hours later, to get us some breakfast. Other than that, the Escalade didn't move for two days.

She was insatiable, in turns demanding and submissive. We did everything I knew to do to a woman, and a lot more I had no idea about but she was glad to teach me. By Sunday, I had learned her triggers, the back of her knees, her nipples, the spot on the back of her neck just below the hairline. She showed me her toy box, and we tried everything in conjunction with everything. She scratched my back so bad I considered a tetanus shot, and I bit her right breast so hard it drew blood. It looked more like a fight than a bout of lovemaking. We both pretty much marked each other as ours, and I never looked back.

We moved in together in two months, married in seven. We agreed to have a few years together before we started a family, she was twenty five and I was twenty nine. Now it was three years later, and I kept throwing hints about starting the family.

For some reason, about a year ago she started changing, becoming more demanding, more materialistic. She decided we needed a new house to start a family. Our house had four bedrooms, and I just couldn't see the need for more.

Then she maxxed out the credit card she had managed to get despite her credit history, and didn't speak to me for two days when I cut it in two, after paying it off.

She had a job, made pretty decent money, but stayed broke. I paid all the bills, it was just the power, our phone plan, the cable, and the other normal household expenses, except groceries. She agreed at the start that would be her responsibility, so I let it be.

If you opened her closet you would see clothes with the tags on it she probably never would wear, and four or five pair of shoes that never saw the ground.

The silent treatment over the car episode lasted about five days. She came home on the sixth to find me taking her clothes out of the closet. She looked but wouldn't speak.

"I'm not gonna live like this. If I'm gonna live alone, I'm gonna live alone. I called your mother, she wasn't happy but agreed you could stay with her for two weeks. We should be able to find you an apartment or house by then. I'll pay the deposit, the first two months of rent, and have the power turned on and pay it for the same amount of time. That should give you time to learn to live on your own again, Better learn to budget, you'll have to pay your own way now."

She surprised me and fainted dead away. I moved her clothes and lay her down, getting a cold cloth and wiping her brow. She awoke with a start.

"Will, I just had the strangest dream. You were throwing me out, I don't remember why."

She looked at her side of the closet through the open door, noticed the clothes on the bed beside her, the suitcases on the floor, and started crying.

She started wailing, begging me not to make her leave, saying she would be better, please, please.

I let her go for a little while before telling her to wash her makeup off and meet me in the kitchen.

She slipped into the kitchen chair, not meeting his eyes.

"I'm serious, Sherry, I won't live like this anymore. The temper tantrums, the out of control spending, refusing to talk about starting a family, it's like I don't know you anymore. If you want out, say so. If you don't things have to change."

She finally confessed that the idea of being a mother scared the shit out of her, she kept flashing back to her childhood.

She was the second child out of three, all just a little a year apart. Being the middle child, she got lost in the mix, and when her parents split when she was twelve it affected her deeply.

"I still see my mom crying. She had three teenagers, was alone, and the stress got to her. She started drinking, and pretty much ignored us. Dad never came around after the first year, he moved halfway across the country. I won't expose a child to that."

I held her hand.

"Honey, I'm sorry about your childhood. But I'm not talking about a houseful, just one. If we decide we want another, we'll wait at least two years. And this is a biggie, but I'll never leave you. I promise."

We walked around each other gently for about three weeks, but we gradually became the normal young couple we were. She stopped spending so much, and even opened a savings account. Three months later she showed me the balance, and I was impressed.

I told how proud I was of her. She laughed.

"Don't be too proud, it'll be empty in a little while."

I thought she was gonna tell me she was gonna buy the new car, but she said no, she had another use for the money, she was going to use it to buy furniture for the nursery, and I was gonna have to paint it, and did I like light blue?

It took a second for it to sink in.

"What? What did you just say?"

She had that smile women have when they know they've succeeded in turning your world upside down.

"I said in about seven months we'll have a son. The nursery needs to get finished, so you need to cut back at the store a little more, especially towards the end."

I had never cried in front of her. She had told me in my office, having just come from the doctor. She had stopped taking her pills, wanting to surprise me. Boy, did that plan work.

When the tears started it scared her.

"Did I make a mistake? I thought this was what you wanted. If you........"

That's all she got out before I smothered her with kisses. Pretty soon her tears mingled with mine.

Myra knew something was up when we came out later.

Noted for being sensitive and discreet, she blurted out.

"What the hell's going on with you two? You look liked somebody slapped the hell out of you and you both liked it."

"Myra, can you keep a secret?"

She nodded yes. The woman was better than the internet when it came to spreading information quickly.

"Myra, we're going to have a baby! Seven more months, it's going to be a boy. Promise me you won't tell a soul. We want to surprise my mother. Promise me?"

She mumbled "Un huh" while trying to pull her phone out of her pocket as she walked off.

I watched her, grinning, before I turned back to Sherrie.

"I hope you already told your mother."

She grinned back.

"I stopped by before I came here. Everybody in town will know before close of business today. I figured if we told her it'll take the burden off me."

True to her habit, by the time we went to lunch, people were stopping us on the street to hug Sherr and shake my hand. We almost didn't have time to eat because of the constant congratulations.

When we got back there was a huge banner over the counter, in white with blue bows.

CONGRATULATIONS WILL AND SHERRY! IT'S A BOY!

I looked at Myra and she smirked.

"Like I could keep a secret that big! You assholes knew I would explode if I couldn't tell anyone."

I laughed and went back into the office.

.................................................

The pregnancy was a bad one. Sherrie was put on bed rest after seven months. I looked at her pale drawn face and knew we would never have another child. It would be too dangerous to her.

Sherrie wasn't a model patient. Her mom moved in, she was the only one who could stand the be around her, mostly because when it got really bad, she would tell her to shut up and leave her alone for a couple of hours.

The delivery took seventeen hours, before they finally did a C section. Sherry was past exhaustion. When she could finally talk she told me.

"Never again."

I agreed with her. She was already in the hospital, so she had her tubes tied before she left.

William Bryan Sanford weighed almost nine pounds, which explained a lot of her pain. He had a full head of thick black hair like mine. I was disappointed when the nurse said it would probably come out before his real hair color would appear.

She was wrong, he never lost his hair and it remained jet black.

If you've never experienced it, all the words in the universe can't describe the feeling of being a parent. It was breathtakingly beautiful and starkly terrifying at the same time. It's not about you anymore, and never will be again, even after they're grown.

They become your world, and everything you do becomes sublimated to their welfare. Spontaneous trips and romantic weekends become things of the past. Now, you have to plan everything, load the necessary equipment, even if it's just a trip to the grocery store.

Disappointingly, Sherry didn't take to motherhood as well as I thought. Oh, it was plain she loved him, but just as soon as I got home she would hand him to me, and flop down on the recliner for an hour. She called it baby recuperation time. I didn't mind, I would walk around holding him, telling about my day, and what I wanted out of our lives together. I talked about little league, boy scouts, camping trips, girls, anything I could think a boy would be interested in.

He would watch my face intently, gurgling and smiling, not understanding a word.

It irritated Sherry no end that he never seemed to cry with me. I would come home, and he would be crying, especially if he didn't feel good. I would pick him up and start walking him around, and about ninety percent of the time he would calm right down.

................................................

I took two weeks off to be with Sherry and Billy after the birth. When I got back, there was a big sign in front of the building.

SANFORD AND SON EQUIPMENT RENTALS. NO JUNK!

Myra and Charley were standing there grinning. It brought tears to my eyes.

My screen saver was a slideshow of Billy, Sherry, and us together.

.................................................

My friendship with the Hatfields began slowly. Angie came in one day and wanted to rent a tractor. I asked her what she needed a tractor for.

"I want to plant a garden. I've already ordered my seed from Bakers Creek. I need a tractor and equipment to prepare my beds."

I admired her determination, but wouldn't rent her a tractor. It surprised her no end.

"Why not?"

"Because you don't know how to operate one. Tractors can be really dangerous if you don't know what you're doing. If I rent you one and you kill yourself, I'd feel really bad. Plus, I'd lose you as a customer and a friend. Don't want that on my conscience."

"Besides, you don't need to rent one, I saw that little Yanmar and all the equipment in your shed. You have everything you need already."

Mr. Henderson had a big auction when he retired and got rid of all his farming equipment. He bought the Yanmar later, because he liked having a tractor around, and he liked to garden. I bet it didn't have five hundred hours on it.

"It won't crank. "

I saw the look of determination on her face. I knew if I didn't help her she would find someone else.

"The battery is probably dead. Look, tomorrow is Saturday, why don't I come by and look at it?"

"Oh, I couldn't take you away from your family."

"You won't. I'll have them with me."

So that Saturday I took Sherry and Billy over, and Angie cooed over the baby for an hour, holding it the whole time. It irritated Sherry that Billy was crying but stopped when Angie held her.

I had brought my batter charger and hooked it up to the tractor. While it was charging Bennett and I looked over possible garden spot.

"You sure you want her on a tractor?"

His reply was honest enough.

"No, but you have no idea how determined she can be. I'm asking you to keep an eye on her, and give her some guidance."

We talked about it while Angie and Sherry disappeared into the kitchen, coming out with a platter of sandwiches and a big bowl of potato salad. We ate, talking about her garden projects. They cleared the table, refreshed the drinks, and listened to me.

"Ben and I have talked about this. He's going to have a roll bar and a seat belt installed on the tractor before you do anything serious with it. Come on out to the barn, and we'll do your first lesson."

I pulled it out of the barn, and had her sit on it. I showed her the brakes, the throttle, the hydraulics, and the gears.

"I'm gonna tell you this, and I want you to remember and be careful. The gears in a tractor don't work like the ones in a car. Whatever gear you're in, the tractor will move when you let out the clutch. It won't bog down like a car does. So if you forget and start out in a high gear, you'll probably snatch the front end off the ground. If you're sitting on an incline or bad angle, you could end up flipping it over. That's why I recommend the roll bar. If you're wearing your seat belt, and stay inside the bar, you may have to change pants later, but you shouldn't get hurt."

I had her put it in the lowest gear and in low range, and had her drive it around the field. It was moving so slowly I could walk beside her, giving instructions. I had her stop and practice moving the hydraulic three point hitch up and down. I had put a turn plow on.

"Try to never run your tractor without a piece of equipment. That way, should yo pop the clutch or get on a steep incline, the equipment will hit and stop you from flipping over. It may jar the hell out of you, but it will be worth it, considering the alternative."

I had her lower the plow and make a few passes in the spot she had selected. She was grinning ear to ear while Ben snapped photos. She was upset when I pulled the tractor back in the shed and pulled the key.

"It wouldn't crank anyway, the battery is gone. I've got a friend that will be by Tuesday to install the roll bar and seat belt, I'll get a battery for you and he can install it. He'll give you the key and a spare I'll have made then. Still, you don't need to drive it while you're alone at first, wait until Ben is home. We'll be by next Saturday, and I'll show you how to use and change the equipment."

Hugs and handshakes, and we were gone.

Sherry was animated on the way home. "She has a beautiful house! It doesn't look like anything like it did when Mr. Henderson had it. She has prints on her walls that are probably worth thousands. She let it slip she had a trust fund when we were talking about art. Did you know they still own their home up north? It was her grandmothers'. Now it's hers."

"Good for them. They're a nice couple, they deserve it."

She was quiet the rest of the way home. I saw her later looking up the prints she saw, and looking at the cost. She was right, some of them were in the thousands.

.................................................

Sherry went back to her job. She liked to work, and we weren't really to the point of not needing her income. Plus, I knew the thought of being home all day with no one to interact with would drive her crazy.

We had a good time teaching Angie to operate the tractor. Ben learned too, but wasn't as enthused as she was. She planted her garden, and bought a small tiller to use when the tractor wasn't necessary. She cried when she picked the first green beans she had raised. She kept expanding the garden. I warned her it would get to be too much for her, but she laughed.

"Ben leaves early and comes home late. There's only so much housekeeping I can do, and I'm not much for sitting around and watching television. Besides, it gives me something to talk about in my blog."

She had indeed started a blog, "Gone Country" to detail her experiences of learning to live in a rural setting. It was actually very popular. Humorous, entertaining, sometimes serious. There were lots of pictures and video. I was in a few because of my help. She described me as spiritual adviser in all things country. It was embarrassing, especially when Myra started reading it.

Angie decided early on she wanted to be organic as possible. I introduced her to a friend that owned stables and boarded horses, and he agreed to let her have some manure for her garden. The catch was she had to clean the stalls to get it. I thought that would be the end of it right there, but soon she had gloves boots, and thick clothes. She called it her shit uniform on her blog. There was even a picture of her on her blog all togged out, a bandana covering her hair. She cleaned three stall, twice a week. Her compost pile was developing into a mountain.

Sherry went with me every time I went over for awhile, then slowed until it was almost never.

"I've heard about all I can stand about manure, crop rotation, and organic pesticides."

I took Billy about every other time, putting his carrier in the shade where I could keep an eye on him. Those days Angie spent about as much time holding him as she did gardening. After we became closer friends I asked her if she had ever wanted kids.

"Yes I did. When it didn't happen we got tested. Ben is sterile, some accident when he was young. We talked about adoption, but it made him uncomfortable. I dropped the subject, he was my husband and soul mate, and I couldn't stand the thought of not being with him. Sometimes, when I'm holding Billy, I think about what I miss. Then he makes a mess in his diaper and I'm glad I can hand him off to his parents. Whew! Here, take him."

She held him out to me like she was holding a bucket of toxic waste.

Ben came out later and sat in the shade with us.

"Will, I want you to do something for me, if you can. My new partners and I are planning a get together. I want to have it here. An old style Southern barbeque. I want you and Sherry to cater it for me. And Will, you'll get paid or we won't discuss it any farther. This isn't a get together of friends, this is a business function. I would have to pay someone anyway, and I know first hand how good yours is. I want them to remember it for a long while."

I hadn't cooked professionally in a few years, and I missed it. I said yes.

He and Angie looked relieved.

"Thanks, Will. I'm gonna need some party supplies, tents, chairs, tables, etc. Angie will coordinate. Most of clients will be here, I really want to make a good impression."

Three weeks isn't a lot of time to set something like that up. Angie took to meeting us at our house every other day to coordinate. My first question was how many to cook for.

"We have eighty confirmed, but figure on a hundred, we don't want to run out of food."

"How many kids?"

"None. Adults only."

She saw my frown.

"What?"

"Nothing."

She snorted.

"Spit it out, Will. If you have a point, make it."

"All right. I think you're sending the wrong message. This is the South, we're big on family down here. You should invite the wives and children, make a more personal connection. Some won't like it, but most will be impressed. And while you should send invitations, follow it up with a phone call. Find out how many kids are gonna be there and their ages, and make sure you have age appropriate games and entertainment. A 'ya'll be sure to come' will strike a much better chord, than than a note saying your presence is requested."

She sat with her mouth hanging open, and called Ben.

"Have you sent the invitations yet? No? Good. We need to change them. And I need the name of every wife and a phone number for them. I'll explain later. Bye, hon."

She looked at me suspiciously.

"Ever think about running for office? You could win on the barbeque vote."

"No" I said laughing "I've just done a lot of parties, you learn as you go."

...............................................

Angie worked the phones. It went from a hundred to almost three hundred. We hired three neighborhood girls to help serve. I had Sherry, Myra, and Charley on my end.

It was a picture perfect day. Hot, but not unbearable, a slight breeze. I had set the castle tent up as the dining hall, with fans mounted in the overhead struts to keep it cooler.