So, berating him is out of the question.
“Can you unlock the door and come look at it with me?” I ask, changing gears to get him out of the machine.
“Is this a trick?”
Untrusting old goat.
I roll my eyes. “It’s not a trick. Jesus, show me what you mean about the hay being better.”
My father turns the tractor off completely—a good sign—and then unlocks the door.
I step down off the side and wait for him to leave the cab of the tractor.
He watches me—warily. “All right, show you what?”
I think back to the roof incident, where he just wanted to be needed or impart some wisdom. With Sadie gone, he’s more alone than usual, and all of us are busy since we’re in breeding season. We had a lot of successful pregnancies, and that means a lot more work.
“Show me why you think this field is better than the other one.”
He perks up at being able to tell me what to do. Lord knows that’s his favorite pastime.
“You see the way the color is here?” He points to the rich green grass.
“Yes.”
“There will be more fiber in that. And you see here?” Dad walks over to some alfalfa growing. “This is right at the peak. If you let it go longer, it won’t be good. We can cut this for hay,store it, and have better options in the winter. If you let them graze, they’ll never eat it all, and it’ll spoil or be trampled.”
I nod. There’s wisdom in what he says, but the other field has the same type of hay planted.
“Okay, then we’ll cut this one and let them graze on the other,” I give in.
I can hear my mother in my head, telling me to pick my battles wisely.
I’m trying, Ma.
“I knew you’d see reason.”
I stare at him for that one. “Yeah, Dad, it’s all thanks to you.”
He laughs once and claps me on the shoulder. “One day you’ll catch on. You gotta rotate the fields, keep them fresh.”
“Got it.”
“I’m sure you’ll screw it up. It’s a good thing I’m here to keep an eye on things.”
Yes, the blessing we never asked for.
“Uh-huh,” I say, hoping the sarcasm isn’t completely obvious. “All right, why don’t you finish mowing? I’ll head back and get the hay attachments and we can finish up the field.”
“Good plan.” He smiles brightly, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes.
“Hey, Pop?” I call as he’s walking back to the tractor. “Please go in a straight line this time.”
He grins. “What’s the fun in that? Life is all about the twists and turns.”
Then he climbs up and goes in a circle.
“Are you having fun, Cupcake?” I ask as my daughter’s face fills the screen.
