“Mm-hm.” I nod and immediately take another bite. I guess staying here isn’t so bad. I’ll start looking for a place next week… maybe.
Dad huffs a laugh, setting his beer down. “How was work this week?”
I glance up at him with a small shrug. “It was good.”
He cocks an eyebrow at me, lifting his fork. “That’s it?”
I release a breath. “Unfortunately, yeah.” I look between my parents, and they just continue to stare at me, waiting for more. I sigh again, dropping my gaze to my plate. “Itisgood. It feels really good to be working at this level, where I can actually make a difference and support decisions that impact long-term performance. It’s just… Silas.”
Mom lowers her fork, and her expression turns serious. “What about him?”
“He wants absolutelynothingto do with me. The problem field is apparently something he’s working on, and he doesn’t want me touching it. Which is ridiculous because I was hired tosupport farm-wide optimization, with that field being a pretty damn big issue.” I lean back in my chair and rub a hand over my face. “Hehatesme.”
“He doesn’t hate you,” Mom says with a shake of her head.
I huff, lifting my beer to my lips. “Oh, yes. He does.”
“I’m sure he’s holding onto some strong feelings,” Dad says. “And so are you.” He observes me for a moment, then drops his gaze to his plate to scoop up another forkful. “Just remember where you both came from.”
My brow furrows slightly as I wait for more, but he doesn’t add anything else. He just takes a bite of his spaghetti.
Mom glances at me, then picks up her wineglass. “So, what are you getting up to tonight?”
“I have some more work I need to do,” I say.
“It’s Friday.” She shoots me a warning look. “You need to have some fun, too.”
“It’s planting season.” I smirk at her. “Fun is not a part of the farmers’ vocabulary for the next month, so it’s not in mine either.”
She presses her lips together with a serious nod. “Well… yeah, that’s true.”
Winston wanders into the room and sits next to me with his eyes glued to my fork, and I glance down at him.
“Since when do you beg?” I ask him.
His eyes flick towards Mom, and he scoots to the other side of the table as she picks up a piece of bread.
And now it’s my turn to shoot her a warning look. “Don’t you dare.”
“Oh, hush,” she says, tearing a piece off and giving it to him after he theatrically gives her his paw. “Grandmothers are supposed to spoil their grandbabies.”
“Not from thetable,” I say in shock as Winston happily smacks on his bread.
But Mom just waves a hand in dismissal.
Maybe house hunting will start soon after all. But Winston’s eyes quickly flick to me as if he can tell what I’m thinking, and I swear he’s saying that’s not going to happen.
I sigh and try to hide my smile as I finish the last of my spaghetti and push back from the table. “I need to head over to the farm and grab a few things from the office. I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Alright,” Mom says, tearing off another piece of bread. “We’ll be here.”
Winston doesn’t even spare me a glance as I stand, his eyes glued to Mom’s hands as he drools on the floor.
I’m going to have some bad habits to break.
I stick my plate in the dishwasher, then step into my sneakers and head out into the crisp evening air. Now that we’re into May, the bite in the breeze is finally softening, and warmth is creeping in. And it’s making me pretty damn excited for a PEI summer.
Everything is peaceful and still as I head down the dirt road towards the farm, and the sinking sun sends long shadows across the dirt and gravel in the golden light. The quiet simplicity brings a smile to my lips as I feel the warm sun on my face and listen to seagulls in the distance.
