After the first shock of Sam's death had subsided, David had suggested to his wife that they think about moving away from the city. She had stared at him in horror. Oh no, she had worked too hard and sacrificed too much to give up her luxurious home in the suburbs, her credit cards, her country club. David had pleaded, begged, and cajoled until blue in the face, but she wouldn't budge. It seemed she no longer loved him, only the things he could give her. So, since he knew he couldn't live that life any more, David packed his bags. He sublet an apartment in the city, near the office while the legalities of the divorce were being settled. His partnership brought quite a tidy sum, and he was able to provide Marge with a settlement that would give her the things she thought she needed, as well as finance a new beginning for himself.
With a renewed feeling of strength drawn from his plans to revitalize this old farm David drove back onto Old Telegraph Road. He had been right to buy the farm from Joe Pearson and was beginning to look forward to meeting that young man's family at dinner that night.
While David was inspecting his new property, Sara stood at the sink of mother's kitchen peeling carrots wondering what she was going to do with the rest of her life.
"Sara! Earth to Sara," her mother teased. "You were a million miles away."
"Sorry Mom. I guess I was," she replied with a sigh.
Her mother went over and took the carrots from Sara and added them to the big kettle on the stove.
"Listen, honey, why don't you go up and have a nice hot bath before dinner. Go ahead, I have every thing under control here."
Indeed, the kitchen smelled deliciously of Yankee pot roast, and though Sara hadn't had much of an appetite lately, her mouth watered in anticipation. Pot roast was her favorite meal. She kissed her mother on the cheek and said, "Thanks, Mom, for everything."
Edith Pearson took her daughter's hand in her own. "I love you, and I'll always be here for you. Now go on," she said as she shooed her out of the kitchen.
As Sara slipped into the steaming tub, memories of her marriage flooded her thoughts. The time slipped by. She shivered. The bath water was getting cold, so she stepped out of the tub and dried off. As she was putting on her make-up, she heard Joey's Toyota pull into the yard, and she glanced at her watch. It was six o'clock-still a half hour before their guest was expected. She shook her head. In no way did she feel up to meeting some divorced lawyer from Boston trying to find himself out in the country.