Kimberly's boots crunch in the gravel drive to the barn. Pepper jumps, barks and runs along Justin's fence line. Justin whinnies and bucks. The two chase each other up and down the fence, matching each other's vocalizations and gymnastics. In her pasture, Mandy snorts and shakes her head before returning to her pile of alfalfa.
Kimberly and I saddle up Vander and Madison for a trail ride. The horseshoes clack in the barn aisle. The cross ties snap, the buckles on the tack rattle lightly as we adjust them, and the leather squeaks a little when we mount up.
Kimberly and I enjoy the ride without much conversation. The horses' hoof beats are just audible beneath the wind in the trees. A train rumbles in the distance as we leave the trail beside the tracks and head into the woods. As we near the farm, Justin whinnies. I can't see him, but perhaps he smells us--or simply senses that we're almost back.
A short while later, water runs in our bathtub. I uncork a bottle of wine and the glasses clink in my hand as I walk from the kitchen. Kimberly and I soak while we talk about the future and sip from our glasses. She runs more hot water. Pepper flops down on the bathroom floor and sighs.
We're toweling off when Pickles comes to inspect the still-full bathtub. He leaps off the tub's edge like an Olympic belly flopper. He seems so shocked by the unfamiliar sensation of landing in water that he just stands silently in the tub with his neck stretched to keep his face out of the ensuing waves.
Kimberly is drying Pickles off when a curious Jack misjudges the curve of the bathtub's edge and slides into the water with a great kerploosh! Fat little Jack floats pretty well, but meows and frantically flails about until I pick him up and place him in a dry towel beside Pickles. Kimberly and I laugh. Pickles and Jack seem utterly traumatized. This will likely be the last time they bathe with us.
That night Kimberly and I lie together in bed, listening to our soundtrack. The wood stove hums, Pickles' ball bounces, a train rumbles, and Hazel barks. Kimberly and I are pressed against one another under the covers, and I can hear her breathing slow as she falls asleep.
I try to recall the sounds of the kitchen, but cannot. No matter--I'll hear them again tomorrow. In the darkness of the bedroom Pepper sighs. I smile and fall asleep.
Jeremy Law and his wife, Kimberly, live on a small farm in North Carolina. Read Jeremy's other columns in EquiSearch.com's Humor section.
