With another sigh, I bring my things in and close the door behind me. I look around the spacious kitchen, taking in the decorations covering the walls. They’re all animal-themed, of course. Cows. Chickens. Horses. The chickens were always her favorite, and I never understood why. She said she liked that they gave her food consistently, and without much work. The horses were just because she liked them. From the cows, she got the milk, of course. Swore it was better than getting it from the store.
I move into the main sitting room, which looks exactly how you’d expect it. Dark wood floors and walls, lots of pictures on the walls, crocheted blankets on the well-worn couch, floral pillows… and a lot of dust. I put my bags near the stairs and start opening up all the windows in the house toair it out. Once that’s done down here, I bring my bags upstairs to my room, glancing at Grannie’s closed door as I pass it. I’m not ready to go in there just yet. I’ve already smelled hints of her here and there, even though it’s been a few months. Time has destroyed most of that, I’m sure, but I bet her room still smells just like her, and I’m not prepared to handle that.
I go out the back door, walking down the creaky steps and onto the dirt path that leads to the barn, and further back, Charlie’s house.
The horses neigh and the cows moo from the pasture. I spot them from here, grazing on grass. Grannie only ever kept two horses and two cows. There was a goat, but he passed away last October. She told me all about it when I was here for Christmas. She also let me know that she only had three chickens left, but that was good enough for her because three eggs a day was all she needed. As long asthey’re happy, they give an egg a day. That’s what she’d tell me.
The land is well-taken care of, and I have Charlie to thank for that, which is why I’m heading over to his place. I want to let him know I’m here and come up with a plan for what we’re going to do.
I pass the chickens in their pen, noting the same three I saw the last time I was here. They stare at me, watching closely.
“Odd,” I mutter as I keep going.
I feel their eyes on me as I walk, so I stop. They’re still staring when I look back. I shake my head and keep going.
Charlie’s house is settled on the back corner of the property, right on the tree line. A dirt road runs along the trees and meets the one that leads to Grannie’s.
The door is pulled open before I reach it. Charlie smiles wide.
“Hiya, Charlie,” I say, giving him a hug when I reach him.
He’s been around for as long as I can remember, and I never understood why he and Grannie didn’t date.They’re around the same age, Charlie being a few years older, but he’s cute for an old man. Rosy cheeks, head full of white hair, and a neatly trimmed beard. Plus, he’s hard-working and caring.
“I’ve been wondering when I’d see you, Miss Daisy. How are you?” He frowns, giving me a sympathetic look.
“As good as can be.”
Nodding, he ushers me inside.
“I just made a fresh jug of lemonade,” he says as he goes to the fridge and pulls it open.
Charlie’s house is half the size of Grannie’s. A little bigger than my apartment back in the city. The kitchen and dining room are a combo, the living room and bedroom are just the right size, and the bathroom is small. Just big enough to fit what’s needed and enough space to move around.
“Have a seat,” he says, putting the glass on the table big enough for two.
Smiling at him, I pull out the scratched-up wooden chair and take a seat. The glass is already starting to condensate, so I pick it up and take a sip.
“You always did make the best lemonade.”
“And I told that to Agnes every day of her life,” he says with a chuckle, taking the seat across from me. He watches me as I take another sip and put the glass down. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get in touch with you,” he says.
“That’s not your fault.”
“I reached out to the hospital plenty of times to have them call you when she first got there. I only just found out that you never knew—when that lawyer called the grocer to leave a message for me.”
“Charlie, I promise it’s okay. It’s not your fault.”
He nods, still looking ashamed. “I tried finding her phone book to call you myself, but it wasn’t anywhere in plain sight, and I didn’t want to disrespect her things.”
I reach across the table and take his hand. “I’m sorry you lost her too.”
His eyes shine with tears, and he squeezes my hand.
“What’s your plans?” he asks.
“Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He raises a brow. “I can’t stay here forever because of school, but I do have the whole summer off. I’m going to stay awhile, go through her things, and think about what to do.” I keep my voice soft as I say the next part. “If I end up selling, I’ll give you this piece of the property.”
“Oh no, you can’t do that. You can’t split the property.”
