Emerson stared at her.
“It’s honestly all stuff you probably already have.” She motioned toward her car. “Just a bunch of sealants and a handful of batten strips I had lying around, but I’d be happy to take a look at her myself, if that’d be helpful. I’m sure you’re more than capable of fixing her up, too. Luca just mentioned you have a lot going on.”
“You—” Emerson struggled to get his executive function running. “You want to help with the old barn?”
Luca had told his mom about the barn?
“Yes!” She smiled at him again. It was a radiant smile. She hadn’t looked much like Luca at all to him until right then. The few times he’d been able to see Luca smile like that—he’d looked like this.
Emerson blinked away, squinting toward the produce beds.
“Luca’s probably over in the fields…” His voice sounded rusty. It made him feel wobbly, saying Luca’s name.
“Ah, don’t worry about bothering him.” Leah waved a hand. “If you’re able to show me the way, I can look around myself. You can show me your biggest concerns when we get there, if you have the time.”
Emerson looked back at her. “Yeah,” he eventually said. “I have the time.”
“Well then.” She smiled once more and returned to her car. “Carry this for me, will you?”
Within a minute, they were walking around the house, a small box in Emerson’s arms, a bag thrown over Leah’s shoulder. Leah walked with a wooden cane and asked questions about the farm as they went. Many of the same questions her son had asked, a little over a week ago now. His acreage, crops,livestock, how long he’d been here. Emerson tried, the entire time, to forget the fact that he had felt her son’s erection against his hip bone the day prior.
“Here we are,” he said as they took the side trail off the main path, the old barn coming into view.
“Hey now,” Leah said. “There’s a charmer.”
Emerson couldn’t help but laugh. “Is it?”
“It is! Is she perhaps tilting a bit to the right, yes”—Emerson laughed again, feeling suddenly, strangely light at having a stranger assess his predicament—“but she’s got authentic bones, you can tell. Of course folks would want to have a wedding reception here. She’s made for it.”
Emerson shook his head. “She was made for it fifty years ago, maybe. Did Luca tell you about the mice running over the feet of the maid of honor?”
Leah laughed, an airy, almost musical sound. “He didn’t. But that likely would’ve happened fifty years ago, too. Mice are kind of part and parcel of owning a barn.”
“Yeah, but—” Emerson shook his head as they approached the door. “I feel like, in the age of social media, things have to be picture perfect. You know?”
“I do.” Leah nodded. “But the folks who are getting married. Luca mentioned they’re your friends? Are they picture perfect Instagram kind of people?”
Emerson wrenched open the door, putting his shoulder into it as he turned over the question.
“The door is the first problem,” he muttered as it scraped against the floor. “But I can work on it.” He put out a hand for Leah to walk ahead of him. “I’m friendly with the people who are getting married here,” he said slowly as they walked into the open space. “But not super close. I don’t know if they’re picture perfect Instagram people.” He knew Alexei wasn’t. Would’ve been able to say that with confidence within an hour of knowing the guy. “But they’re good people.People who deserve a perfect day, either way. And I’m…a guy who really needs the money they’re paying to rent out the place.”
Leah glanced his way with a knowing look. “I understand.” She studied a beam. Emerson stuck his hands in his pockets, watching her survey the space.
“Most of it just needs some TLC, love,” she said at length when she returned to stand across from him. “But if I’m being honest? You should get someone to come look at these beams. Especially if you’re going to have, what, a hundred people in here?” Emerson nodded. “You don’t want the worst to happen. Your barn’s got good bones, but I think they could use some shoring up.”
Emerson stared at his boots.
He knew she was right. He should’ve called someone months ago, the day Ben and Alexei had asked about holding the wedding here. But he’d worried whatever inspector or contractor he called would declare it a structural hazard, demand the whole thing be razed or need a level of repairs Emerson couldn’t afford.
But he knew Leah was right.
And something about having her here, telling him the truth, ready to help with the rest of it however she could?—
He was pushing forty, but the feeling twisting through his chest was as poignant and complicated as ever, even if it’d been a while since he’d felt it. The idea of having a mom around.
“Yeah,” he finally said. “I will.”
“Now.” Leah’s voice was bright but firm. “Let’s get to work.”
