"Life in the country is going to be just perfect!" Cathy Harper remembered uttering those foolish words to her mother almost a year ago. She could still hear the conversation in her head as if it were yesterday.

Her mother had laughed and asked, "Perfect like your first day in Kindergarten when Andy spilled milk on your new dress?"

"OK, so maybe I do tend to be a bit over-optimistic," Cathy had replied, chuckling at the reminder of her husband's clumsy charm and their childhood history together. "But this really will be perfect."

"Perfect like your honeymoon when Andy came down with a flu bug on the first afternoon?"

"Well..." Cathy had paused, aware that she and Andy had weathered their share of comical mishaps in their life together. But she had felt confident about this move. "We've anticipated anything that might go wrong and have tried to plan ahead for it." she told her mother.

"Perfect like you planned not to start a family for five years?" Her mother wasn't letting up.

"Don't you think your grandson Josh is perfect?" Cathy had countered.

"Of course I do," her mother had relented. "It's you and Andy that I worry about. You two can turn up more rocks in a smooth road than any other couple I know."

"OK, Mom, I give up," Cathy had said quickly before her mother could begin reminding her how smooth life was for her sister Ashley. "I'll concede to semi-perfect. But just you watch. Andy and I will take to country air like a duck to...."

Suddenly her attention was diverted back to the present, and Cathy couldn't remember whether she'd made the conventional response or not, but now she hurried to catch her toddler son as he scrambled up on the kitchen chair and reached for the tempting pitcher of cherry drink on the table. Disaster averted, she filled a small cup and offered it to Josh.

He downed it in a swallow and cried, "More!"

"More, please," she corrected, but obliged his request.She waited until he was done and then wiped the tell-tale red mustache from his lip. She ruffled his ginger curls."That makes you look even more like your Dad," she told him.

"Daddy?"

"He'll be here for supper in a while," she said, glancing around at the general disarray. Lovingly advertised by the Realtor as a "country kitchen," Cathy thought it certainly had lived up to its name with Andy's muddy boots and overalls hanging in the corner, Josh's finger paints on the counter, and assorted cat and dog toys underfoot. But one thing it was not: it was not perfect.

She winced at the memory of that conversation with her mother. Unexpected events had kept turning up to test Cathy's eternal optimism. Real life on a Michigan farm was anything but predictable and anything but perfect. But she and Andy had learned to cope very well, thank you. Finally she'd learned to curb her tendency to reveal each misadventure to her mother all those miles away, and she'd turned her parents' few visits to the country into a model of organized activity.

She was proud of how well they'd done, and she'd learned to adjust to the challenges, but today, something else weighed down her heart. This morning, she and Andy had had rare angry words. He wanted to use the small inheritance that he'd recently received from his grandfather for equipment. She'd wanted to spend it sprucing up the house before her parents' next visit in May.

"You promised we could redecorate," she reminded him, glancing about the kitchen sorely in need of a face-lift.

"We need to put the money toward producing income," Andy-the-ever-practical said. "We need to replace the tractor. That takes priority."

"Outside things always take priority!"

"That's not fair, Cathy. We can still redecorate, ourselves. Paint and wallpaper will make a big difference."

"We're not decorators. You're all thumbs at that kind of work. I want it professionally done!"

The hurt look on Andy's face had sent a pain through her heart, and before she could say a word, Andy's reply had been the slam of the kitchen door. Cathy glanced at the calendar that hung by the door. Happy Valentine's Day, she thought. How could she have been so heartless?

She spent the morning concentrating on her on her chores, baking valentine cut-out cookies with Josh's "help" and hoping that Andy would be back for lunch, but he'd stayed away. Now, late that Saturday afternoon, Cathy anxiously awaited his return. She knew that she had been childish, letting her desire to impress her parents come before her good sense. She wished she could take back her words that had washed over Andy like a splash of mud, but she knew that she could only apologize for hurting him.

So, she was trying to make amends in the only way she knew. Even Andy had said that from ground zero she'd become the best cook in Cass County. Josh was tugging at her for attention, and she followed him to his corner to help set out his favorite finger paints. "Make sure it stays over here, young man," she told him.

While the roast and potatoes baked in the oven, she tidied the kitchen counter and picked up the latest letter from Ashley; a photo tumbled out. She studied her sister's carefully arranged hair and model figure. Ashley had always been the perfect one, with no effort at all. Cathy had envied that, knowing how proud her mother was of Ashley's accomplishments: an ivy-league MBA and a prestigious job in a big-city corporation.

It often seemed that she and Andy were the family's comedy relief, even the day that Josh was born. It had been a keystone-cop kind of a day. She'd had pains; the car wouldn't start; Andy had strained his ankle sprinting up the steps at the emergency room; and she'd delivered almost a month early. But the look in her mother's eyes and her words as they stood at the window observing tiny Josh as he slept were a revelation.

"He's a little miracle. I never knew how much I wanted to be a grandmother. Ashley told me she'd never want kids; she was leaving that for you. Thank you, Cathy for giving me this joy."

Somehow Cathy had forgotten all that, until the "perfect" conversation" with her mother had resurfaced in her mind today. Now a little older, she knew that things didn't have to be perfect to bring joy; they just had to be appreciated for what they brought to your life. She knew what was really important to her: Andy and Josh and their life together in the place they loved, even if it was a little shabby in spots. In her heart, it was still her bright and shining dream.

She sighed, glancing up at the clock. Nearly five. You couldn't set a clock by Andy, he operated on his own unique time frame, but surely he'd be home for supper soon. She was impatient to make things right. She sat down at the table to snap the beans.

A cold February rain was spattering against the screen door when it suddenly banged open, and Andy appeared with a grin, carrying a large white sack and a big pink envelope. Ignoring the muddy trail he left on the spotless tile floor, he shucked off his dripping jacket to reach down and scoop up Josh who eagerly dropped his finger paints. Andy gave him a hug, carried him to his mother, giving her a quick kiss on the lips and settling Josh in her lap and handing her the card.

"Fast food break tonight!" he declared, reaching past her to put the bag on the counter.

Cathy, picturing the roast dinner in the oven that would warm up just as well for tomorrow, laughed as an ooze of catsup leaked from the bag onto her jeans-covered knee.

"Opps, sorry," Andy said, pulling out a paper napkin and mopping at the mess.

"Stains wash; love lasts," she replied, taking his hand in hers. "I'm sorry, too... about this morning. Together we can conquer anything - even wallpaper!"

He grinned down at her. "That's already handled. The guy at the tractor store and I struck a great deal - not only on a used tractor, but a barter as well. He's a bachelor hungry for home-cooking. He does home improvement on the side. We haven't worked out the exact details, but I told him he'll be getting the best of the bargain.What do you think?"

"I think you're the best deal I ever got," Cathy answered, pulling from the envelope a valentine with a verse that brought tears to her eyes. Then she laughed as Josh reached out for the food sack with one hand and placed the other, green with finger paint on her blouse. She hugged the child, who paused, French fry halfway to his greedy mouth.

"You're just like your father," she said and widened her gaze to lock eyes with the grinning, freckle-faced Andy. "You both leave marks on my heart," she said. "And I wouldn't trade them for anything!"