A Farmer's Son

I realized I may have made a mistake when I misjudged Jessica's desire to travel and be something more than a mother, farmer, and bookkeeper. My mom had a different opinion.

"She was dead wrong to run off and leave her family the way she did," my mother lectured, "But she wasn't wrong about selling this place."

I looked at my mother like she had lost her mind. "This is our legacy, Mom; farming is our tradition." I tried to explain.

"No, Josh, it was your grandfather's and your father's, and all it did was lead them both to early graves. It was never supposed to be your future. It's your past. And you have four children to raise. You need to be looking ahead, not looking back." Now I had my own mother pressing me to sell.

Since I had confronted her that evening at the bar, Jessi had been living with a friend outside of town. Her real man ran away and left her sitting alone at the hotel. Our temporary custody agreement had the kids living with me and provided Jessi with visitation, which she used sparingly.

The harvest barely covered our bills for the year. The divorce went through quickly, the custody arrangements stayed the same, we divided our assets, and the buyers increased their offers on the farm. Apparently, I was between two other farms that had already made a deal to sell. They needed my acreage to complete their parcel.

I waited for the divorce decree, shook on a price, and I was no longer a farmer. We moved to a small place near the college. With my mother's help with the kids, I completed my degree in design. I dated some in school, but I had little time for myself between my studies and kids. I contented myself with being single for a while.

I graduated and started working for a start-up aftermarket manufacturer. I moved my brood of four and my mother closer to my new place of work. The company couldn't pay well, but we were used to living off less than most. They made up for the difference with stock options. We produced equipment that the farmers needed, and with my experience, we made sure it was durable and easy to use.

Jessi never even tried to reconcile. I think she had convinced herself that she never stood a chance, and I, of course, had no desire to give her another opportunity to treat me like she had.

I heard that she bonded with other wives that succumbed to the bastard's advances. They petitioned the state to sever the contract with slick. I also understand that the current wife received a nice photo album with mementos of her husband's latest trip. He soon found himself without a job, wife, or family. He wasn't worth my time to track down, so I left it to the other irate farmers to dispense justice, that's if they ever found him.

Jessi was pissed when she learned that I had sold the farm and followed her plan. I think it drove her insane knowing that I did what she always wanted and that she wasn't present to benefit from the rewards of her hard work over the years we'd been together.

The little start-up doubled in size and went public on its fifth anniversary. Overnight, I was a millionaire. The stock I accumulated would make my retirement very pleasant.

Jessi didn't fare as well. She struggled to overcome her earned reputation, and the local businesses never gave her an opportunity to use her accounting degree. She ended up a waitress at that hotel bar where she ended our life together.

Life went on, and I tried to start living it. Jessi stood out in front of her shared apartment and glared at me as I dropped off the kids and left for a seven-night eastern Caribbean singles cruise.

I was tired of being a primarily single parent and wanted the company of someone, a female someone. My personal life was finally back on track, and I was ready for the next chapter.

As I stood on the top deck enjoying our sail-away party, I couldn't help but notice the honey-blonde locks of hair fluttering in the wind as if it were a flag. That flag was attached to a slim woman who gave me a sly, flirtatious smile with a nod of her champagne glass.

I smiled back, then moved towards her and thought, not bad for the son of a farmer's son. Not bad at all.