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M ONDAY MORNING , A NTHONY RECEIVED A call from the repair shop where his car had been taken, with the unsettling news that the fuel pump was shot and it could take a week or so for them to get the part needed.

He pounded his right fist in his left palm. “That’s just super! This news is not what I need today.”

“What’s wrong?” Rosa asked, taking a seat beside him on the sofa.

Anthony flicked a lock of hair off his forehead and grimaced. “The guy at the repair place informed me that my fuel pump is shot and it could be a week or more before they get in a new one.” He sagged against the back of the couch. “You know what that means?”

“That you’re stuck here for another week?”

“Yeah, and boy is my dad gonna be mad when he finds out.”

Rosa glanced toward the hallway outside the living room. “We need to keep our voices down,” she whispered. “My mom’s in the basement, but she could come up at any minute and hear what we’re saying.”

“Yeah, you’re right, so let’s go up to your room and we can talk more about this.”

Anthony rose to his feet and extended his hand to help Rosa get up.

They made a hasty exit and headed up the stairs.

In Rosa’s room, they both took a seat on her bed.

Without thinking, Anthony flopped down and rested his head on her pillow.

“Wow, this is a comfortable mattress. You must sleep pretty good in this bed.”

“I’m sorry, Anthony. I can only imagine how uncomfortable it must be for you to sleep on the floor every night.” Rosa swiveled around to look at him, and he saw a look of pity on her face. “And I’m sorry about your car. I should never have gotten you into this mess in the first place.”

He sat up and put his hand on her trembling shoulder. “I volunteered to come here with you and pose as your husband, so you’re not at fault. And don’t worry about me sleeping on the floor. I’m almost getting used to that flimsy piece of foam,” he added with a forced grin.

“Yeah, right.” Her lips compressed. “So now what? Are you going to call your father and give him the news that you won’t be back at work when you had originally planned?”

“Yep, and I’m gonna do that right now.” He flapped his hand toward the door. “So you might want to leave the room, because I’m sure if you’re anywhere near my phone, you’ll hear Pop’s loud response.”

Rosa shook her head. “No, that’s okay. I’ll stay, because you might need some support.”

He clasped her hand, enjoying the warmth of it and appreciating her willingness to sit here with him while he made the call.

New York City

The phone rang and Lavera picked it up. “Reeves Italian Diner. How may I help you?”

“Hi, Mom. It’s good to hear your voice.”

“Oh, Anthony, I’m so glad it’s you. We haven’t talked since you called on Thanksgiving.”

“I know, Mom. Sorry about that. The days have gone by quickly, and now I need to talk to Pop.”

“He’s in the kitchen, cooking as usual. May I take a message?”

“No, it’s important, and I need to speak to him myself.”

“Okay.” Lavera set the receiver on the counter and went to the kitchen. She found Herb dishing up a plate of spaghetti and meatballs. “You’re wanted on the phone, dear.”

“I’m busy. Take a message.”

“It’s our son. Anthony said he needs to talk to you.”

“About what?”

Lavera shrugged. “He didn’t say. Just said it was important.”

Herb lifted his gaze toward the ceiling. “It better be him calling to let me know that he’s gonna be here on the day he said, because I’m getting sick of holding down the fort.” He handed the plate of spaghetti to Lavera. “You can take this out to table number five while I see what Anthony wants.”

Belleville

Rosa sat close to Anthony, hoping her presence offered him the support he apparently needed as he held the cell phone close to his ear and rubbed his forehead. She figured that was probably better than putting it on speaker mode, just in case her mother decided to come upstairs for anything.

Even though the cell phone was not on speaker, Rosa heard the anger in the voice of Anthony’s father after Anthony explained about his car troubles and said he wouldn’t be back to New York for another week or so.

She also saw Anthony’s stiff posture and the tightened muscles in his arms as he held the phone.

No doubt he was angry and even embarrassed that she sat here listening to him receive a tongue-lashing from his father for no good reason.

After all, it wasn’t like Anthony had planned for his car to die or chose for the new fuel pump to take a week or more to get here.

Rosa thought Anthony’s dad ought to be more understanding, especially in a situation like this.

Of course, she reminded herself, my daed’s never been understanding when I’ve done something he doesn’t approve of.

If he was honest with me, Dad would probably admit that he wishes I’d never come home.

Most likely he prefers Susan’s help at the Meat and Cheese Store than he ever did mine when I worked there.

When Anthony finally clicked off his phone and dropped it on the bed beside him, he turned to face Rosa and said, “That went exactly like I figured it would. My dad is hopping mad, and he threatened to fire me and hire some other cook to take my place.” He paused long enough to take a few deep breaths before continuing with his tirade.

“I’m sure after I said I’d get there as soon as possible and hung up, Mom probably went to bat for me and tried to calm Pop down. ”

“I can’t tell you how many times my mother has run interference between me and my father over the years.” Rosa gestured to Anthony’s phone. “Would it help if I called and talked to your father?”

Anthony gave a firm shake of his head. “That would undoubtedly make things worse. Remember, Pop wasn’t too happy when you quit your job to make the trip here, leaving him short a waitress.”

“True. I’m sure he won’t fire you, though. That was probably just an idle threat.”

Anthony’s forehead wrinkled. “I wouldn’t be too sure. But you know what, Rosa? I can’t worry about that right now.” He planted his feet on the floor and stood. “It’s kinda stuffy in this room. Think I’ll go outside for a breath of fresh air. You want to join me?”

“Not really. I’m too tired to do much of anything right now. Think I’ll stay here and rest for a while.” Rosa reclined on the bed.

He looked down at her with his thick brows drawn together. “You okay?”

“I’m fine—just tired.”

Anthony leaned over and gave Rosa a peck on her forehead. “All right then, I’ll see you later, Wife.”

“Stop it! That’s nothing to joke about.”

When Anthony left the room, shutting the door behind him, Rosa closed her eyes and tried to relax.

She wished there was something she could do to make things up to Anthony for the sacrifice he’d made in bringing her home.

Once again, Rosa wished she had never agreed to let Anthony pretend to be her husband.

Now they would have to keep up their charade until his car had been fixed and he could be on his way back to New York.

Anthony put on his jacket and went out the back door.

When he stepped into the yard, he realized that with Mahlon and Susan working at the store today, Elsie in the basement, Alvin at school, and Rosa in her room, he pretty much had the whole place to himself.

It felt kind of good, and he wandered around the area, breathing in the cool, fresh air.

Elsie’s garden, which he guessed must have been vibrant and full of fresh produce, was bare, except for the tops of carrots and other root vegetables. A few colorful mums still bloomed in the flower beds near the house, but those would be gone once winter brought snow and freezing weather.

Anthony stopped walking and flexed his fingers repeatedly. Oh boy! Sure hope I’m not stuck here till the snow flies. I need to get back to New York before Pop carries through with his threat and I end up losing my job.

Caw! Caw! Caw! A noisy crow flew overhead, scattering Anthony’s thoughts and doing away with the peaceful moment he’d experienced when first stepping into the yard.

There was no point worrying about his job right now, when there was nothing he could do about it.

If Pop did end up firing him, he’d look for another position at some other restaurant.

With the amount of eateries in New York, plus the experience Anthony had as a chef, he felt sure that someone would hire him.

In the meantime, he might as well make the best of his situation here.

Anthony turned and allowed his footsteps to take him to Mahlon’s rustic-looking barn.

After stepping inside, Anthony paused to allow his eyes to adjust to the shadows in the main part of the building, devoid of light except for what little crept in from outside through the bare windows.

He paused and lifted his head to inhale the aroma of the sweet-smelling hay that had been stacked neatly along one wall.

Anthony smiled when he heard some soft meows, along with the rustle of straw that had been spread on the floor in a spot where a mama cat lay with a batch of kittens.

He remained in place several minutes, watching the little critters and wondering what it would have been like to grow up on the farm, with the option to play in the barn.

Anthony assumed there would be lots of places in this building for a child to hide or play games.

Of course, for someone like Rosa’s brother Alvin, coming here wouldn’t be all fun and games.

He’d heard the boy’s father remind him several times that there were chores waiting for him to do in the barn.

Anthony heard the soft nicker of a horse, and he followed the sound down a shadowy corridor where there were no windows at all. Before coming to the barn, he had seen a couple of horses grazing in the pasture and figured they were all out there, but apparently he’d been wrong.

As he approached the second stall, Anthony heard the stomping of hooves, followed by a series of snorts. No doubt the horse was keenly aware of his presence.

When Anthony drew closer, the chestnut horse stuck its head over the top of the gate. Surprised, Anthony jumped back. “Whoa now! Don’t you go gettin’ any ideas.” In the dim light, Anthony wasn’t sure whose horse this was, but he was glad it seemed to be gentle.

The horse nickered and shook its head, as though it understood what Anthony had said. He relaxed a bit and even chuckled. Anthony was glad no one had witnessed the alarm he’d felt when the animal had first made its appearance. Cautiously, Anthony reached his hand out and stroked the horse’s nose.

“Too bad I don’t have an apple or some other treat to give you,” Anthony said as he continued to pet the horse. “If I’d have known I would end up in here, I’d have brought you an apple.”

Anthony remained a while longer, stroking the horse and enjoying the moment before deciding it was time to head back outside.

Once he was in the cooler air again, Anthony strolled past the chicken run and watched as a couple of cackling hens took a dirt bath, while several others scratched for bugs.

Thanks to these plump chickens, we had fresh eggs for breakfast this morning, Anthony mused as he moved on.

Guess that’s one more positive thing about living the country life.

Anthony shoved his hands into his pockets and moved toward the back of the Petersheims’ property.

He heard the high-pitched maa-maa bleat of several goats inside an enclosed area and went over to take a closer look.

Goats were not something one would normally see running around New York City, and Anthony watched with interest as they pranced and frolicked around, some standing on their hind legs to reach and eat the leaves from the lower branches of the tree nearby.

Anthony noticed that one of the male goats was busy rubbing against the fence post, while another one nibbled on the wood. “Strange. Very strange critters,” he mumbled with his arms folded.

Shaking his head, Anthony was about to walk away and return to the house when he caught sight of yet another male goat—this one with a white beard mixed with gray. The animal was foraging in the grass on the opposite side of the fence. Anthony’s side, to be exact. I wonder how that critter got out.

Unexpectedly, and with its head down, the goat, coming at a good clip, headed right for Anthony. “Go back where you came from! You obviously jumped the fence once, you can do it again,” Anthony hollered, waving his arms. Big mistake! The crazy animal gave a low guttural sound and charged.

Anthony did the first thing he could think of. He bent down, picked up some small stones, and pitched them at the goat. His aim was bad, and the rocks missed, but the action did not deter the goat. It made him more aggressive.

Anthony’s adrenaline took over, and knowing he needed to take refuge, he ran for all he was worth toward the woodshed.

Seeing a pile of logs on one side of the small building, he scrambled to the top and shouted for help.

Meanwhile, the goat, with head down and making a threatening kind of grunting sound, came closer and closer.

If someone didn’t hear Anthony’s screams soon and come to rescue him, he figured he might have to fight off the goat with his bare hands.

“If I had a stick in my hand,” he muttered, “I would definitely use it right now.”