“I’ll be grateful for it,” her dad said. “I’ve got big plans for this year. Can you help me decide which recipes to try out, Dove?”
Dove’s face lit up and she nodded up and down enthusiastically.
“I’m gonna hold you to it, young lady,” he said, winking. “Go on and get some rest.”
Dove darted up the stairs and her grandfather chuckled.
“She loves to help,” he said approvingly.
“She’s a good girl,” Mom agreed, nodding. “And smart as a whip. You’re doing such a great job with her, Ella.”
“We all are,” Ella said honestly.
She would never stop being grateful that her parents had decided to hold onto the farm that kept a roof over all their heads instead of selling and running off to some warm place for the retirement they had probably been dreaming of. And they had both had a big part in Dove’s upbringing over the last few years.
“So, what’s on the docket for tomorrow?” Dad asked.
Even though he couldn’t do the physical stuff, Dad still kept up with all the ins and outs of the business. Ella and her mom talked him through all their accomplishmentsfor the day and sketched out what they planned to do tomorrow.
Dad nodded and tugged at his short beard.
“Yep,” he said when they were finished. “All of that is exactly what I would do. We’re having a great year.”
“Really?”Ella couldn’t help asking. “You wouldn’t do one thing differently?”
“Not this time, peanut,” he said. “You and your mother know what you’re doing. I’m just enjoying the ride.”
“Mama, I’m ready,”Dove called down the stairs.
Ella highly doubted that her dad didn’t have at least a bit of advice. Mom would tease any suggestions out of him. But it was nice to hear that he thought they were doing well overall.
Though four years was a long time in some ways, Ella was already realizing that no two years on the farm would ever be the same. Dad’s decades of experience would always be valuable. He saw patterns that she didn’t, and he knew the quirks of all their suppliers and buyers too.
Ella headed up the stairs, avoiding the creaky one without even thinking about it, and made her way down the hall.
Dove was staying in Ella’s childhood room, and it made her smile to see her own little girl in a flannel nightgown with a long braid, standing on the blue and gray rag rug, just the way Ella once had.
“Did you brush your teeth?” Ella asked.
Dove nodded.
“Did you lay out your clothes for tomorrow?” Ella asked.
Dove pointed to the jeans and pretty red sweater carefully arranged on the chair.
“Great job,” Ella told her. “In you go.”
Dove crawled into bed and Ella pulled the thick quilts up over her daughter’s small form.
The farmhouse still had its original wavy glass windows, and drafts always found their way through the cracks. This bedding had been made by the hands of generations of Bennett women, and Ella liked to think that her grandmother and great-grandmother were still watching over the family in a way, keeping them warm on cold fall nights like this one.
“Do you think we’ll make more than one kind of pie on Thanksgiving?” Dove asked sleepily as Ella brushed the flyaway strands of hair from her forehead and bent to kiss her cheek.
“I’m sure of it,” Ella told her. “Grandpa loves apple crumble, and Grandma and I love pumpkin.”
“Do you think we might havethreekinds?” Dove asked.
“I guess we can ask your grandpa what he thinks,” Ella said, trying to hide her smile. “Did you have a certain kind in mind?”
