“What?” The word comes out a raspy whisper.
Grannie is all I have. The only family I have left…
“She passed away almost two months ago.”
“Two months?”
My chest gets tight, and it’s hard to breathe. I want to be angry, sad, but I’m just… blank. Empty. I can’t find the words.
“Yes, Miss. The hospital was supposed to reach out to you.”
They didn’t. No one did.
“This can’t be right. You must have the wrong person. Grannie was in good shape. She was healthy. She could run circles around me, for crying out loud.”
“I don’t know much about the situation, so you’ll have to reach out to Hannah Memorial Hospital.” There’s another pause, and he adds, “Would you like to call me back after you do that? We can discuss the will then.”
“Okay…”
He gives me his number, which is the one he called from, so I don’t write it down. We get off the phone, and I sit there and stare at the ground.
Grannie is dead? How can this be? She was as healthy as the horses in her barn. Never had a thing wrong with her.
Every Christmas I spent with her, she was up early, taking care of everything around the farm, and even had breakfast done before I woke up. Same as it was when I lived with her. I would help her out on the farm, but I never lasted as long as she did. It was hard work. And she wasn’t even that old! This October would have been her sixty-fifth birthday.
This is crazy… it makes no sense. It can’t be right! Was it an accident on the farm? Machinery or something? Was she sick and didn’t tell me? Why didn’t Charlie get a hold of me? Is he even okay?
How dare that lawyer call me and give me this news? He’s wrong! Grannie isn’t dead! She can’t be.
But there’s only one way to find out. I have to call the hospital.
Chapter Two
Daisy
Thetaxidropsmeoff at the top of the dirt road, stating he “won’t go down them damn roads no more because they ain’t good for my car.”
With a sigh, I grab my suitcases and backpack from the trunk and start walking. The taxi takes off, dust lifting up and fading into the air surrounding me. The road isn’t paved, or even, so pulling two suitcases on wheels isn’t easy, but I only have half a mile to go before I reach the house.
After walking for a few minutes, I reach the hill and look down upon the old farmhouse. There’s a pang in my chest as a swarm of memories hits me. Sitting on the front porch with fresh lemonade and pecan pie was my favorite thing to do with Grannie.
I know when I get to the house, it’s going to be empty. No sweet smell of pie. No smiling Grannie. No hugs. Just an empty farmhouse full of memories.
I was assured that Charlie, the helper Grannie had, was still around and was taking care of the animals until I could get here and figure out what to do with them. Grannie taught me about caring for a farm, but thinking of doing it all myself is overwhelming. It was always something we did together.
But what better thing to do while taking a break from veterinarian school than spending time on a farm? Maybe it’ll teach me helpful things; things you can’t learn in school. I know enough now, but to be honest, I wasn’t always paying attention. I loved helping Grannie, but that’s all I did—help. I didn’t run it or take over or even have to take the lead. I just did what she told me. And now here I am, alone on the farm, with not a clue what to do with it.
I didn’t think not being able to go to school would be a good thing, yet having the time off is helpful since I have to be here. And thanks to all the money left to me from Grannie, I will be able to go back to school and won’t haveto worry about bills for a while—right on time, considering my cell phone was shut off literally on my way here. I should get it paid, but maybe distance from that world will be good for me until I can process everything.
I’m able to stay here and take my time cleaning out the house all summer until I go back to school in the fall. Of course I can’t keep it, as much as I hate thinking about getting rid of it. I need to go through her things, figure out what I want to keep, and then put it up for sale. School is at the other end of the state, so it’s not like I can commute. And paying someone to keep up the place would be too much money. I guess I could consider renting it out, rather than selling it. That could be a steady income for me while I’m in school. I wouldn’t have to work at the smelly bowling alley anymore, but then I’d have to hire someone to check on the place and make sure the tenants are doing as they should. That’s not the sort of thing Charlie would be good at. He’s not much of a people-person.
I sigh, switching my grip on the suitcase because my wrist is starting to ache. The sun is beating down on me, and I can already feel a sunburn coming on. Just a littlemore to go and I’ll be there. Not that it’ll be any less hot inside, since Grannie doesn’t have AC.
I leave the suitcases on the front porch by the door while I walk to the end of it, lift up the faded pink flower pot in the corner to get the hideaway key. I smile as I pick it up, recalling the day Grannie and I painted this—and many others. They’re placed around the farm for decoration more than they are housing plants. Grannie was good at taking care of animals, but growing things? Not for her.
Grannie took care of me since I was a baby. Both my parents died in a car wreck when I was three, and Grannie took responsibility for me. I had a good life growing up here and loved taking care of the animals. Grannie never made it my responsibility, but she did try to teach me a lot of things. I’d get up in the mornings and help her tend to the farm, and I’m pretty sure it won’t be too difficult to get back into the swing of things, but it has been a long time since I’ve had to do so much physical activity. All I’ve had are visits over Christmas for the last two years while attending college.
The key slips into the lock easily, and I turn the knob and shove the door open. It’s hot and stale, as it usually is during the warmer months. It’s cool today, but that’s rare. Soon enough, I’ll be cooking in here. Grannie didn’t believe in air conditioner, and so… there isn’t one. And even if we had one, I’m not sure the electricity could handle it. So, fans it is.
