“They won’t try and pull the rug out?”
“Nope, it’s happening. Will this baby be good to go for popcorn and drinks?” He pats Bambi’s side.
“That’s the plan. Will the popcorn be ready in time?”
“I’ll harvest it early next week if the weather’s right.” His smile drops. “I wish Anders could be here.”
“When shall we carve out the maze? Pumpkins should also be ready starting next week.” We’re more than a week into September and they’re finally turning from green to orange.
“You finished designing it?” He accepts my change of subject.
“Yep.”
“I’ll probably screw it up,” he warns.
“How about I sit in the tractor with you and give you directions?”
“That sounds perfect. Oh man,” he says suddenly. “Please don’t give up on him.”
My mood deflates. “What can I do, Jonas?”
“I wish I knew.”
Over the courseof the next week, Dad and I fix geometric monochrome gray vinyl to the Airstream’s floor and birch-faced ply to its interior, and although my heart aches every time I think about Anders, there is a lot of joy to be found in working side by side with my dad.
When I ask Jonas if he can recommend an electrician, he comes over himself to fit the lights and sort out the wiring.
Afterward, we head into the cornfield to cut the maze and it is way more fun than I’d anticipated.
I direct him. “Five meters forward, then left. No,left! LEFT, JONAS, LEFT!”
For a man of so many talents, it is hilarious how often he gets his left and right mixed up. Add in the fact that I keep using the metric system instead of feet and yards and we have so many missteps, we have no idea if the maze will actually work.
Bailey and Casey come over the evening after we’ve cut it, and it’s great to see how much friendlier Jonas is with Casey now that Heather isn’t stealing his attention. Bailey, Sheryl, and I get quite tipsy on the last of the rhubarb-syrup cocktails, while Dad, Casey, and Jonas have a few too many beers. The six of us laugh so much as we try to find our way through the maze, and even though I designed the damn thing and Jonas cut it, Bailey and Casey are the first to reach the middle. Jonas and I have laid out a bunch of hay bales around a central, really quite rubbish, scarecrow.
“Your scarecrow needs some work!” Bailey hollers across the cornfield.
“You sort it out then!” I shout back.
“I’m too busy planning movie nights and weddings! Mom!MOM!You’ve got to do something about this scarecrow!”
Jonas has agreed to host a wedding at the farm next month. Bailey said it would be the perfect trial as the couple who are getting married have such low expectations.
Her words, not mine, but it did make Jonas and me laugh.
The bride is three months pregnant and she wants to get hitched before her bump is too noticeable so that she can wear her grandmother’s wedding dress.
Bailey knew she was flying close to the sun by offering upthe barn instead of pushing the couple into using the golf club as a venue, but the couple would have struggled to afford the wedding package she normally sells. She’s really been enjoying pulling together a last-minute wedding on a budget and it’s heartwarming to see her so happy.
I wish I could stick around to see the fruits of her labor, but I have to go to Sabrina and Lance’s wedding in October. I missed Sabrina’s hen weekend a couple of weeks ago at the end of August—there’s no way I can miss her wedding too, even if I don’t welcome the thought of going alone. I may not have hard feelings toward Scott anymore, but it won’t be easy seeing him with his new girlfriend at our mutual friends’ nuptials.
Jonas and Ieventually make it to the middle of the maze and we cheer, high-fiving each other before sitting down on a hay bale.
I didn’t realize, but the big red barn is full of hay bales from the wheat harvest back in June. Normally, Jonas would hang on to them for a while before selling them as animal bedding when the market isn’t flooded with hay, but he’s planning to clear them early because the proceeds from the movie night and wedding are more than covering the costs of any lost profits. He’ll keep some back for makeshift seating.
“I wish Anders was here,” he says to me as we sit side by side.
I suspect it won’t be the last time I hear this sentence coming from his mouth.
