Moms sat at the stop sign and waited for the truck to pass then turned towards Sleepyside. With a heavy sigh, she recalled the squabbling in the big, homey kitchen of Crabapple Farm earlier that day.
“Is it time yet, Moms? Can we go now?” Five year old Mart Belden had asked the same question over and over throughout the morning. Eager to begin his first day of kindergarten, he had been ready to walk out the door since breakfast.
Helen Belden, Moms to her adored children, glanced at the kitchen clock as she finished the lunch dishes. “Mart, we’ll leave in a few minutes.” Satisfied that the kitchen was clean, she turned her attention back to her son “Let me run a comb through your hair,” she said.
Mart obediently walked over to his mother, who attempted to comb and tidy the blond curls that covered his young head. Sitting on a nearby chair, Trixie scowled at her brother.
“I’m gonna go too, huh?” she asked hopefully.
Moms shook her head. “I’m afraid not, Trixie. You’ll get to go next year.”
“I wanna go today. Mart’s going and I always go where Mart goes.”
“You can’t cuz you’re too little. So there!” Mart stood still, smirking at his little sister, while his mother fussed over him.
“Moms! Please! I’ll be good. I promise!” Trixie’s big blue eyes implored her mother to change her mind.
“Sorry, Trixie. You have to be five to go to kindergarten. Besides, I need someone to keep me company while your brothers are at school.” Moms finished working with Mart’s hair, then spun him around for one final inspection. Before he could wander off, she grabbed the camera that was sitting on the kitchen counter and told Mart to stand near the door.
“Smile,” she ordered. Mart beamed at his mother while Trixie’s legs furiously swung back and forth and her eyes glared.
“There. That’s done and now we’re off. Come on kids. Let’s go get in the car.”
Trixie and Mart ran out the back door to the car, scrambled into their seats and fastened their seatbelts.
“We’re ready!” sang out Mart. “Hurry up, Moms.”
After locking the door, Helen got into the car and drove down Glen Road towards the picturesque town.
Now sitting at the stop sign, she looked into the rearview mirror at her two youngsters and wondered where the time had gone. There were days when she thought she would always have little children underfoot, but now that she was sending another of her brood off to school, she already felt bereft of Mart’s daily presence.
At the elementary school, Helen held Mart’s hand a little longer than necessary, reluctant to let it go. She knew that once she broke the grasp, Mart would no longer be her little boy. She watched as he shifted his backpack on his shoulder and confidently walked into the colorful classroom. He joined the other students as they sat in a circle, never once looking back at his mother. Helen’s eyes traveled from the classroom to Trixie, who was peeking around the doorway, trying to absorb everything she saw. Trixie’s serious eyes met her mother’s.
“Next year, that will be me, huh?”
Moms nodded, tears threatening behind her eyes.
Trixie shuffled her feet. “Yep, next year, I’ll be in that class, except I won’t be carrying a dumb Transformer backpack. I’m gonna have Dora the Explorer.”
Back in the car, Moms grimaced when she felt the rhythmic thudding of Trixie’s feet against the back of her seat.
“What’re we gonna do now?” the little girl asked.
Moms smiled at Trixie in the rearview mirror. “You know, I’ve always wanted to explore the Wilson Nature Preserve. I thought we could go on a hike, then stop at Wimpy’s for a treat before meeting your brothers back at the farm.”
“Yay! We’re going ‘sploring,” yelled Trixie, her feet moving faster.
Moms wanted to remind Trixie that she wasn’t supposed to kick the seat, but then realized that the gentle pounding was becoming very soothing to her. Starting the car, she drove toward the nature preserve that had recently opened, thanks to the generosity of Emily Wilson, a local, elderly botanist who had passed away a year earlier. After following a winding road into the preserve, Moms parked the car and waited for Trixie to get out. She held out her hand and Trixie happily took it, chattering all the while about finding a buried treasure or maybe a lost dragon hiding in the woods.
After briefly examining a map of the paths that was posted near the parking lot, the two set off along the trail. The late summer flowers were still in bloom and the trees were just beginning to show a slight tinge of gold on the tips of the leaves.
When the two came to a fork in the trail, Trixie stopped and looked at her mother. “Which way do we go?” she asked, looking back and forth at the two different directions.
“I’m prepared for that,” answered Moms. “Look.”
Moms held out her hand and showed Trixie a shiny penny that lay in it.
“What’s that for?” Trixie asked.
“We’re going to make this a ‘penny hike’.”
“A penny hike?”
“Yes. When we come to a fork in the path, we’ll flip the penny. If it lands on tails, we’ll turn right. If it lands on heads, we’ll turn left.”
Trixie clapped her hands. “Can I flip it?”
“How about if I flip it and you call it?”
“Okay. Go Moms. I’m ready.” Trixie leaned forward, her hands on her knees as she focused intently on the shiny coin.
Moms tossed the penny into the air and caught it. She opened her hand and showed it to Trixie.
“It’s heads, Moms,” announced the little girl.
“Then I guess we’re going to take a left turn. Come on.”
Moms and Trixie turned and headed along the trail. When they came to another fork, Moms again pulled out the penny, flipped it and then the two turned to the right. As they hiked along, the trail narrowed a bit and began to go uphill. When they got to the top, Moms paused, taking a moment to enjoy the view. From their vantage point, they could see the steeple of a church in Sleepyside as well as the surrounding farms and estates.
“Moms, this is so pretty. I bet Mart isn’t having as much fun as you and me.” Trixie looked up at her mother, smiling broadly.
Moms leaned down and gave Trixie a hug. "I’m pretty sure Mart’s having fun, but you and I are having fun too. Now which way do you think should we go?”
“Get out the penny, Moms,” ordered Trixie.
Moms pulled out the penny, flipped it, and then the two made another left turn along the path and continued their hike. After walking up and down several hills, they found themselves on a winding trail lined with wild cherry trees.
“Ooh, Moms. Look at all the squished-up cherries,” cried Trixie, squatting down to look at the macerated fruit that lay on the ground. “And they’re busted, too. Look! See how the insides are coming out.”
“That’s such a waste,” Moms said softly.
Trixie looked up. ‘Why?”
“If I had known these trees were out here, we could have come earlier and gathered some of them. Then I could have added them to my crabapple jam.”
“But, Moms,” protested Trixie, “if you added these cherries, your jam would be all lumpy and bumpy and wouldn’t fit in a sandwich.”
Moms laughed. “No, Trixie. After pitting them, I would cook them in a big pot until they were all hot and bubbly. Then the cherries would start to cook down into smaller pieces, making all the delicious flavor pop out, just like that.” Moms snapped her fingers. “Next, I would smash them up a bit more so that the jam would be nice and smooth.”
“I think that sounds ‘licious, Moms. We should do that next year.”
Moms grabbed Trixie’s hand, swallowing hard when she realized that next year, at this time, Trixie would also be in school. The two continued hiking, flipping a penny when necessary, until they landed on a path that led them back into a meadow, not far from where Moms had parked the car.
“Whew!” said Moms, wiping the sweat off of her forehead. “It’s pretty hot out here. Shall we go to Wimpy’s and get some ice cream now?”
“Yes, Moms. Let’s go.” Trixie turned and started to retrace her steps along the path, but Moms stopped her.
“Let’s just walk across the field to the car, okay?”
“Okay. Hey, wait! Let’s race to the car,” suggested Trixie.
“All right.” Moms watched with amusement as Trixie positioned herself several feet behind her in an attempt to give her mother an advantage. Then Trixie knelt down and placed her small hands on the dirt.
“Ready, set, go!” she yelled.
Moms trotted while Trixie’s small legs pumped furiously and the two made their way across the field to the parking lot.
“I win!” yelled Trixie when she touched the car first.
“Yes, you did,” gasped Moms, who quickly unlocked the car and ushered Trixie into her seat. In just a few minutes, the two were on the road that wound out of the preserve and toward Sleepyside.
After parking the car at Wimpy’s, Moms took several minutes to neaten her hair and apply a quick swipe of lipstick.
“Whatcha doin’, Moms?” asked Trixie, as she deftly unbuckled her seatbelt.
“Just making sure I’m not a mess.”
“Oh, Moms, you’re so silly. Everybody knows you’re the most beautiful Moms in the whole world. Let’s go.”
“Okay,” said Moms, cherishing her daughter’s words.
She opened the car door, and, taking hold of Trixie’s hand, led her across the parking lot and into the diner where they were greeted by Mike, the owner.
“Hi, Beldens. What brings you two ladies here on this fine afternoon?” he asked, smiling at them.
Moms helped Trixie up onto a stool before seating herself at the counter. “Hi, Mike. I promised Trixie a special treat since Mart started school today.”
“He did?” exclaimed Mike. He faced Trixie, who was wiggling around on the high stool. ”So, it’s just you and your Mom, huh?”
Trixie nodded enthusiastically. “Yep, and next year I’ll be in school, right Moms?”
Moms smiled and nodded, while her heart felt a painful lurch at the thought.
Mike wiped down the shiny counter, then propped his elbows on it and gazed at Trixie. “So, Miss Belden, what’ll it be?”
Trixie giggled. “Hey, Moms. Mike called me ‘Miss Belden’.”
Moms grinned, then noticed a familiar figure standing across the street. Turning away from Trixie, she hoped to catch the attention of her husband, who was standing at the curb, waiting for the light to change.
“What can I have, Moms?” Trixie asked, causing her mom to spin around.
“Well, this is a special day, so how about a chocolate sundae?”
Trixie squealed and clapped her hands. “Did ya hear that, Mike? I get to have a chocolate sundae. And I want a cherry on top!”
“Absolutely, Miss Belden,” he replied then turned and grabbed a small dish from the shelf. He quickly scooped a round pile of ice cream into the dish, added chocolate syrup, some whipped cream and placed a bright red maraschino cherry on top. “Here you go.” He slid the gooey concoction in front of Trixie.
“Can I eat it now, Moms?” pleaded Trixie.
Moms nodded and Trixie happily dug into the gooey mess. With her first bite, she loaded ice cream, chocolate, whipped cream and the cherry onto the spoon and shoveled it all into her mouth.
Seeing that Peter had finally noticed her, Moms walked over to the door to greet her husband. She opened it for him and smiled when he stepped into the diner and leaned down to kiss her.
Trixie, her mouth crammed full of ice cream, moved the mixture around, enjoying the different flavors as they teased the taste buds on her tongue. When she found the cherry, she bit down, causing the fruit to splinter. Half of the cherry stayed in Trixie’s mouth, but the other half flew out and landed on the shiny counter. Trixie quickly swallowed her mouthful before shouting out gleefully, “Hey, Moms! Look! I popped my cherry!”
Peter straightened abruptly as his stunned eyes met Helen’s. Their heads snapped around and they both stared at their daughter, who had chocolate syrup dripping down her chin and a big grin on her face. The murmuring of several conversations in the diner ceased suddenly as did the clattering of the silverware against the dishes. Every patron turned to look at the little girl, who sat at the counter, her legs swinging back and forth and her curls bouncing in excitement.
Glancing into the mirror above the counter, Trixie spotted her father. “Hey, Daddy. Look at me! I got a chocolate sundae and I popped my cherry.”
Peter grabbed Helen’s arm and hissed, “Do something, Helen.”
Helen looked at her husband incredulously. “Me? What about you?”
Peter gave Helen a horrified look, then replied, “I don’t think I should be handling this sort of thing.”
They hurried over to the counter, where Mike was standing with his fist stuffed in his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. The clatter and hum returned to the diner.
Helen leaned down to Trixie. “Dear, what do you mean? You know, about your cherry?”
“Oh, Moms, you missed it. I popped my cherry. It was so neat.”
Peter leaned down and whispered urgently into Helen’s ear, “Make her stop saying that.”
Helen rolled her eyes at her husband’s panicked response, then settled herself on the stool next to Trixie’s and spoke calmly, “What do you mean, Trixie? Tell me what happened.”
“I put all this ice cream in my mouth and the cherry, but when I bit the cherry, part of it flew out and landed on the counter, like it had popped. You know, like cherries cooking on the stove. ‘Member, Moms? You told me about them when we were ‘sploring. This was pretty neat, but you missed it cuz I already ate the piece that flew. And Moms, you were right. When the cherry popped, it was all juicy and ‘licious.” Trixie shoveled another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.
Helen relaxed, exhaling loudly. Turning to Peter, she noticed he had also sat down and was watching the exchange.
“See, Peter. There was a logical explanation.”
“Hrumpf.” He scrubbed his chin with his hand and exhaled loudly.
Helen set Peter with a steady gaze until he turned away and ordered himself a cup of coffee.
“Daddy. Sit next to me,” ordered Trixie.
Peter took the stool next to Trixie’s and gratefully accepted the cup of coffee that Mike offered him.
“Anything else?” asked Mike.
“You got some bourbon?” muttered Peter.
Mike shook his head, then went into the kitchen, bursting into laughter when he was out of sight.
“So,” said Peter, “what’d you do today, Princess?”
“Oh, Daddy. Moms and I ‘splored a preserve, and we tooked a penny hike, then we came here and I got a sundae and I popped my cherry. We’re having fun, aren’t we, Moms?”
Wincing, Moms forced a stiff smile and watched as Trixie scraped her ice cream dish clean. Glancing at her watch, Moms noticed the advancing time. “We need to go, Trixie. We have to get home so we can meet your brothers.”
“Okay, Moms. That ice cream was yummy.”
Helen held her breath, hoping that Trixie would say nothing more about the cherry on top of the sundae. She was relieved when instead, Trixie reached for a paper napkin and smeared the chocolate across her face.
“We have to go, Daddy, cuz Mart and Brian will be home soon,” Trixie informed her father.
“Okay, Princess.”
Trixie wiggled her way off the stool, then held out her arms to her father for a hug. Peter grimaced slightly when he felt the sticky chocolate pressed into his face, but let Trixie embrace his broad shoulders.
“Come on, Trixie,” said Moms, holding out her hand.
“Okay.”
Trixie followed her mother to the door, then stopped and turned back. “Bye, Daddy. Bye, Mike. Thanks for letting me pop my cherry here.”
Helen grabbed Trixie and pulled her through the door and out of the diner. At the counter, Peter dropped his face into the palm of his hand and groaned. When he looked up, he saw Mike standing in front of him, a big grin across his face.
“Anything else, Peter?” MIke asked.
“No. How much do I owe you?”
Mike laughed. “With the show your family just put on, I should be paying you.”
Mike’s laugh faltered when he caught Peter’s glare. “Fine. Three dollars.”
Outside, Moms hurried Trixie toward the car, anxious to get away. “Trixie,” she said, “I’d really appreciate it if you’d remember that you’re not supposed to kick the back of my seat.”
“Oops, sorry, Moms,” answered Trixie happily, licking the chocolate off her lips.
As their footsteps hit the sidewalk, they matched the rhythm of the new mantra that played through Moms’ mind, “Just 364 more days. Just 364 more days!
