I hold Stormy until I can give her a chance to get acquainted with the farm dogs. She’s an interesting cat in that she’ll follow me wherever I go like a dog, but I’ve never leashed her. In Raleigh, she’d take out the trash with me, never once taking off to explore. She just likes being close to me.
I make it up the porch with the dogs hot on my heels for pets, Stormy climbing half up my shoulder to avoid getting mauled. Maggie takes Stormy from me and waits for me to greet the dogs before I hug her. They smell like creek water and muddy paws.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Maggie says in my ear when I hug her. “We’re glad you’re here. Saved you some supper.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. Her familiar scent sets off something inside me, a switch flipped. I’m fighting tears as I glance up at the haint blue porch ceiling, painted as such to keep evil spirits away. I’m going to need plenty of help with that.
Bill stands by waiting to hug me too. He holds me back by my shoulders, catching my watery eyes. “You’re home now, sis. Cry as ugly as you want.”
I laugh, sniffling. “That’s good news because crying’s about all I got left.”
Maggie waves me toward the door. “Come on in. Let’s get you fed.”
* * *
I push awayfrom the butcher block island in the kitchen, having had my fill of macaroni and tomatoes, green beans, and a roll with foul amount of butter. Not sure if Maggie planned to load me up on butter and carbs, but I’m appreciative either way.
“So, what’s this grand plan y’all have cooked up to fix my life?”
“Not just yours,” Bill mutters.
Maggie gives him a scathing look and she swallows, smoothing her hands down the front of her pants. “Well, sweetie, we know you’re out of a job and,” she sucks in another breath, “we haven’t had a break from this farm in years. And since your Peepaw left us, we’ve been a little antsy.”
A wry smile climbs up my face. “I miss him.”
“Us too,” Bill agrees.
We lost Peepaw last spring, and Maggie and Bill cared for him up to his final breath. They decided they didn’t want him going into a home when they could get more help on the farm and manage his health on their own. They even figured out how to bring him along while they worked on the farm, riding him out to wherever they were working either on Freckle or in the four-wheeler. Peepaw spent his final years where he lived most of his life, in the orchard. Maggie and Bill didn’t let on just how hard it was, but it was a heavy load to carry.
I can see the writing on the wall of what they’re about to ask of me and my breathing grows shallow.
“You know we love Dustin and we can call him if we need to?—”
“Or we can not go at all—” Bill cuts in.
“We need to go,” she says on a sigh.
“Go where?” I ask.
“Your mom and dad have inspired us in a way,” Maggie says. “We got that RV outside on the cheap and we want to spend some time seeing the country. We’re thinking East Coast until the Fourth, then swinging through here before we go off to the West.”
I nod, torn inside. “That’ll be so good for y’all. You deserve it.”
And I mean that, but I also see where this puts me.
“We think you can run it on your own, Darce,” Bill says.
I shake my head. “Y’all, it’s been years.”
“Nothing’s changed,” Maggie assures me. “And we won’t leave till next Wednesday so you have some time to get acclimated. That’s a whole week.”
Stormy winds between my feet where my heels hook on the bar stool.
Bill fills the silence. “We’ll pay you, of course, and you won’t have any rent. You can store your stuff you don’t need in the pole barn.”
No rent, and no expensive storage unit. The benefits are piling up. I tap my finger on the counter.
“And no phone signal, you know. Internet’s only good enough to load your email,” Maggie sings, trying to catch my eye. “What better way to get away from it all? Figure out what you want.”
