“Okay,” I reply, nodding. “How about you?”
“Fine.” His reply is clearly far from the truth. “Sorry that was weird back there,” he says after a moment of painful silence. “I was trying to be...” He shakes his head.“Friendly.”His tone is wry, self-deprecating.
I bite my lip and look at him again and this time he meets my eyes and smiles. His gaze drops to my lips before flicking away.
“Right, where’s the Airstream, then? Let’s see what you’ve done to her.”
“Him.”
“Him,” he obliges me.
He spends a few minutes checking Bambi over, smiling as he traces his fingers over the birch-faced ply Dad and I curved around the inside walls.
“It looks great,” he says, turning on the 1960s lights that I bought at the antiques warehouse. “The retractable wheel works okay?”
“Yes, really well.”
“Got to always remember to put it away before you tow this thing anywhere,” he cautions.
I nod. He’s already warned me how important this is.
“So, when are you going to do your trip across America?” he asks as he checks over the back door seal.
“I don’t know,” I reply with a shrug. “Maybe next summer.”
“You won’t go sooner?”
“I doubt I’ll be able to get over here again before then.”
He freezes. “Where are you going?”
“Back to the UK.”
He stares at me. “You’re leaving?”
I nod. “A week from today.”
“For good?”
“I think I need to.”
I catch his look of devastation as he averts his gaze. “Will you close her up?Him!” he corrects himself as he walks away. “I’ll back up the tractor.”
I don’t geta chance to speak to Anders again as we get everything ready, at least, not more than a few words here and there.
Peggy comes over to say hello when Bailey and I are in the process of getting the drinks and popcorn machines up and running, and she seems thrilled by theFredrickson Family Farmlogo Jonas had designed for the popcorn packaging.
Bailey has to duck off when the mobile cinema company arrives, but Peggy stays to chat with me for a while, telling me all about Wisconsin and what a perfectly relaxing time they had there. It wouldn’t surprise me if it’s a place they’d consider retiring to.
As it’s such a lovely evening weather-wise, I’ve opened the rear door and put serving tables on the ground outside. Anders helped Jonas bring his charcoal grill up from the lake and barbecue smells infuse the air. A local five-piece bluegrass band, friends of Casey’s brother, Brett, arrive and set themselves up. Bailey told me about them—they didn’t expect to be paid; they just thought it would be a fun night and good exposure. Even their warm-up music adds to the overall ambience.
When Bailey turns on the festoon lights, I step out of the Airstream to have a look at how the lights glint off the silver exterior while the inside glows warmly. I can’t help but smile as I drink it all in.
Bailey has to keep ducking off to organize various things, so I’m left on my own for a while, and as customers start to arrive, a queue forms outside Bambi.
“Want some help?” Anders asks, popping his head through the doorway.
“Please,” I reply without thinking. I’m run off my feet.
