“Two uninterrupted months together!” Anax rumbled. “We will hardly leave the bed!”

“We still need to eat to keep up all that energy.” Schuler cracked his neck. “Say, Anax, would you like to help me prepare lunch?” His eyes darted to his wife. “Unless you still need him for the laundry.”

Patience waved him off. “I got the laundry done before him and I can get it done now. Besides, the hard part has passed.” She lifted Anax from her head and handed the skull to Schuler, eager to beset the skull’s regenerative and restorative properties upon her husband. “But you’re aware you needn’t do the cooking …”

Schuler cocked his head. “I can’t load all the work onto you.”

The young woman peered at the laundry, one of the many pillars of housewifery.  “You are the one who earns a regular living, though. A good wife would—”

“Come now, I’m going to be furloughed for two months.”

“Oh, they aren’t paying you?”

Schuler stifled a grunt, his nerve jostled from the strike. He shook his head. “I’m not performing, I’m not getting paid.”

“That’s all right.” With a bite of her lips, Patience wrung her hands. “Our savings will see us through.”

“I’m not sure you’re accounting for how much savings I’ve got.”

For a moment, Patience glanced into the sky, estimating all of Schuler’s expenses past and present. He barely had to pay for any boarding during his tour, as that was usually covered by the production. There were the four months of rent he paid for in Keaton. And now that he lived with her, only food, fuel, and motorcar maintenance demanded his money.

“It’s a sizable amount, rest assured.” Schuler patted her shoulder on his way inside the cottage.

While Patience returned to the laundry, she wondered exactly how much Schuler had, if he would disclose it to her, if it was even proper to ask. Finances were an involved subject, however, unfit to discuss so early in the day. Patience yawned again as she tipped the contents of the basin out onto the lawn. She then retrieved the box of detergent and carried the basin full of damp clothes around to the backyard to hang dry.

Pegs snapped around cloth and cord. The cold emanating from the wash emphasized the approaching winter. Between the folds, Patience gazed at the garden. The chickens scrounged the dirt, seeking defunct seeds from the warmer months. Prohibited from their reach beyond a curtain of wire, the last of the summer crops desperately clung to shrinking vines and stalks. On the other side of the yard, the greenhouse stood guard over the growing greens planted in August, ready to shelter them from the weather for a prolonged winter harvest. Past the construction of glass and wood, the atelier succumbed further into the trees at the edge of the property.

Patience had wished to use it over the summer. But with the wedding and Schuler’s move demanding her attention, she had found little time to indulge in her hobby. She barely made enough time to walk along the road and through fields to search for any good specimens to clean. Feeling out of practice, Patience noted to herself that she would mount the skeleton of the next hen to die. Perhaps she would even introduce Anax to the craft.

Beyond the faded fence along the yard, under a windbreak of trees belonging to the neighboring farm, a horse turned close. Patience politely waved to the man atop it. Even when she was without Anax, the farmhands were leery of her. The man this time gave a quick flip of his wrist in fleeting acknowledgment of her polite gesture.

Patience had seen the changing of many different faces at the boundaries of her property. While she knew it was mostly likely due to the seasonality of the agricultural industry, she speculated the laborers were put off by her little isolated cottage, her appearance, and the rumors that undoubtedly existed around town, even before Anax had come into her life. They had few reasons to stay near, and had all the reasons to avoid her.

Clean sheets and garments splayed against the caress of a light breeze. Patience took the detergent box and empty basin into the mudroom. Depositing her galoshes, she then went to wash for lunch. A pleasant aroma drifted through the hallway, calling to the young woman. Down the hardwood planks, the corridor opened to the combined light of the kitchen and parlor. The delicious scent came from a simmering pot tended by Schuler and Anax in lively conversation.