My best friend is back.
And I want to do everything I can to let him back in.
THIRTY-ONE
I glanceout my office window yet again, my focus not at all where it’s supposed to be. It’s getting late, and only one of the two tractors is back from planting.
I drag my attention back to my laptop to continue updating tomorrow’s prescription for the next field. But as I work on typing in target rates, movement out the window catches my eye.
The second tractor pulls into the yard and parks in front of the garage, and I swivel my chair towards the window as my heart picks up its pace.
Silas hops down from the cab, lifts his hat to run his fingers through his hair, then settles it on his head again. And even from here, I can see the tension in his shoulders.
I watch as he closes the tractor cab door with more force than is necessary and disappears into the garage.
Well, shit.
Without giving myself a chance to talk myself out of it, I snap my laptop shut, push out of my chair, and head out of the office.
Most of the crew has already left since it’s getting late, and some relief flows through me at the sight of the nearly empty parking lot. Because whatever I’m about to walk into will go much better without an audience. While Silas and I have workedout a lot and we’ve reached an understanding about what happened between us, this variable-rate overhaul could still be a sore spot. I’m the one who brought in a new way of farming that he now has to get used to. And from the looks of it, it might not have gone so well today.
I pull in a breath to brace myself as I step through the wide bay door into the garage and scan the open space. Al is the only one in here, standing at the back and sorting a stack of work orders. He catches my eye and jerks his thumb towards the back door, and I give him a quick nod before heading that way.
As I step outside, I lift a hand to shield my eyes against the low sun, scanning the fields draped in golden light to look for Silas.
“You didn’t need to come out here.”
I look down to my left, where Silas sits on the ground with his back against the building, head tipped against the metal and arms draped over his bent knees. He doesn’t look up, keeping his gaze fixed on the field in front of us.
I walk over and lower myself to the ground beside him, matching his posture against the wall. My shoulder lightly brushes against his as I settle next to him, and heat rushes up my spine.
“I know,” I say.
He continues to stare into the open field as I turn my head to look at him, and I take in the way his jaw and shoulders are tight like he’s holding something back.
But I stay quiet and don’t ask him for it. I’m not naïve enough to think everything is just magically going to be better because we decided it will be. There’s still some fragility here as we rebuild, and I know better than to push him. He’s always needed a bit more time to process, and he always used to come to me when he was ready.
And if he feels like he can’t do that yet, at least I’ll be beside him, showing him I’m here anyway.
We sit in silence for a bit as we look out over the farm and the sun creeps towards the horizon, washing everything in soft gold and slowly stealing the light from the sky.
“I hate the new system,” Silas eventually says.
I just nod, not at all surprised to hear this. “Yeah.”
I turn to look at him and suppress my sigh as I see the hurt and frustration written all over him. And conflict twists deep inside me.
This is what I was hired to do. It’s why I’m here, and it’s what the farm needs. And already, I’m seeing cleaner coverage and fewer overlaps in the field that’s been planted so far. But I also know that all this change is tearing up Silas’s world. From the day I stepped foot on this farm after years away, I could tell Silas completely threw himself into this work. He’s worked hard to learn everything he needs to know to do the best job he can. And now I’m coming in and changing it all up on him.
“Anything specific?” I ask.
He pulls in a deep breath. “No.”
His fingers start fidgeting, and I can practically feel the anxiety rolling off him.
“No?” I ask, trying to get him to open up enough so I can help him.
He sighs again and shakes his head. “It’s everything.” He bites the inside of his cheek as he seems to get lost in thought for a moment. “The screen is different, and it doesn’t… It’s not the same. The guidance lines are gone, and now it’s colours and blocks...” His brow creases, and he shifts a bit against the garage. “You showed me that, I know, but now it’s just…” He lets out a frustrated noise. “Fuck, I don’t know.” He brings a hand to his face and rubs it hard with a heavy breath.
