I checked, and my wallet was still there. She gave me a smirk, and then the smile fell from her face. I left Brook alone with her own thoughts. If I were her, I would have needed some alone-time to sort out what had happened. I was proud of her and saw her in a completely different light.
◊◊◊
After we got back to town and dropped off Brook and her parents, Grandma asked me to visit the farmhouse with her.
“I want you to see what we’ve been up to.”
She showed me that they’d taken out several walls to open up the floor plan. My grandmother told me that back in the day, homes had many little rooms. They were able to save most of the wood floors, which were black walnut; my grandma speculated that they came from trees on the farm. They’d sanded and put polyurethane on the floors. It would have been criminal to stain them. Black walnut had a natural deep, rich look, darker than pine or oak, but not so dark as to make the space feel smaller. The refinished floors made a huge difference in the feel of the house.
The interior had all new paint, and the kitchen had been updated. They planned to tackle the bathrooms next. Once the interior was done, Grandma would have them work on the exterior. The front porch had some wood rot, and she pointed out that the house needed a new roof and paint.
“I want to show you something special,” she said with a little mischief in her eyes.
Grandma took me to a back room where there were tall and long dressers and an armoire. They were in a shaker style, but whoever made them was a real artisan. The drawer fronts on the dressers all had been made from a single piece of wood. You could tell because the grain matched from drawer to drawer. The long dresser had two columns of three drawers, and the tall dresser had a single column of five.
The armoire was big. Grandma opened it and showed me it was designed to be an entertainment center. The doors had pockets they could slide into so they disappeared.
“You can get a fifty-inch TV in there,” she said. “We had a couple of old trees that needed to come down. I made a deal with a local man to make these in exchange for the trees.”
“Who did you trade with?” I asked.
“The Mennonites have a sawmill, and they make furniture.”
“So this is all black walnut?” I asked.
“Yes, the old trees were big enough they were able to get wood wide enough to make these. He told me it was rare to be able to do it this way anymore.”
“You got yourself some incredible furniture,” I said.
“No, these are yours. They’re making me some other things. I’ve asked them to make a headboard to match.”
“I don’t have room,” I said, disappointed that they wouldn’t fit into my apartment.
“Your mom and I talked about it. I’ll store this here until you get a place of your own.”
“Grandma, I really appreciate that,” I said.
I pulled her into my arms to hug her and looked down at the gray hair on her head. Two things stood out for me like never before. The first was how much she loved her family and me. The second was how incredibly smart and forward-looking she was. When Mom and I clashed, and Grandma stepped in to help us resolve our differences, I’d found that she was someone I could go to for advice and love. This just reconfirmed that belief.
We grabbed some flashlights and then walked the farm. She revealed to me what all the plans were. She already had some goats, and the orchards were being cleaned up. Grandma showed me where the fields for produce would go in. They’d used walnut husks to cover the road back to the river. I’d no idea they could be used for that.
The county had approved a farm bridge so we could get to the fields on the other side. This summer they would put one in. Things were shaping up.
◊◊◊
Chapter 16 – I Think You’ll Like This Sunday February 28
I ran and then drove to church with my mom. Some dimwit college kid got up and said he wanted to go to Cancún over spring break to do missionary work. I blurted out “bullshit” without thinking. The congregation had a laugh when my mom grabbed my ear and marched me out like I was ten years old. When we got outside, she let go and started to laugh.
“Don’t you ever do that again,” she said through the laughter bubbling up from inside her. “It was all I could do to keep from laughing at that idiot, and then at you calling him on it.”
“So, why did you make me leave? I had questions to ask about which resort he planned to hold his prayer meeting in,” I said.
“You just answered your own question. Come on, let’s go home. Your uncle has that smoker, and he’s bringing over ribs for lunch.”
That sounded like a plan.
