6. Dustin
Chapter 6
Dustin
“You did this on purpose,” I say.
“I did no such thing.” My grandpa chuckles while starting up the side-by-side. We use this as the main transportation around the farm to haul tools. He drives us to the edge of the fence that needs repairing. A large section was hit by some trees that fell during a wind storm just before I arrived. The wire needed to be clipped and re-connected in a couple of huge parts using splicers. We also had to fix the tensioning and replace a few wooden posts.
“You knew the events started Monday. You called to make me come back so that I would be stuck participating,” I grumble.
“Dustin, my poor grandson. Who is in perfect shape. Young and full of life. Did you expect your grandmother and I to participate in the events? I didn't make you do anything. Last year we barely made it out unscathed. Some of the days involved sports. I strained my hip and was in the hospital for a few days.”
“I didn’t know that. Why didn’t you tell me?” I say, concern etching my voice.
“Because you’ve been gone. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. It was only a minor strain. I’m fine.”
“Well, it is a big deal to me. I would have come and helped if I’d known.”
“It’s in the past now and not worth arguing over. You’re here now.” Seems like someone had a change of heart. We pass some cows grazing on the freshly sprouted grass. “You're probably wondering why we even participate. But it truly does help with raising funds for the farm. It's a good business investment.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to try to get out of it. I know how much it helps you out. I’ll put in an effort even though my partner and I don’t get along.”
“Violet and you don’t get along?”
“How do you—”
He cuts me off, “Constance called. Brought me up to speed. And for the record, Violet is a pretty, kind, and motivated young woman. She’s been through a lot in her life. Take it easy on her. Besides, you two would make a fine couple.”
That one does it. I tilt my head back and laugh so hard my stomach aches. There is no way. We can’t even stand each other.
“What has she been through?” I’m almost positive the whole town knows and this is why he said something.
“That’s for her to tell you and for me to keep my mouth shut about. Just know she hasn’t had things easy. So be good to her.”
This peaks my interest even more, but I don’t have to dwell. The farmhouse comes into view. The inviting wrap around porch circles the front. The home is modestly sized with white aluminum siding. Hanging plants swing slightly, filled with colorful pansies. The slight breeze strikes the wind chimes. They sing a song that brings back memories of my childhood.
It feels like I am finally home.
Farther in the field off to the side of the farmhouse is where I’m staying for the foreseeable future. The small A-frame house matches the farmhouse's colors perfectly. My grandpa and I built it years ago. We cut the wood using the sawmill. Built with blood, sweat, and tears. So many nails pounded into it, hours spent creating a unique home. I wasn't sure why he wanted us to build it together when I was young. They had room in the farmhouse. Although now it becomes clear. He wanted me here all along.
The side-by-side comes to a stop in front of the house.
My grandmother calls out the front door, “Lunch is ready, boys!”
I hurry knowing she makes the best sandwiches. I feel almost like a kid again, even though I’m thirty and far from it.
“What are you doing here?” Violet asks, crossing her arms. A scowl sits on her face.
I will admit, my grandpa was right, she is pretty—who am I kidding, she’s beautiful. Her long hair is up in a ponytail, but strands fall from her face on both sides, framing it in a perfect messy way. Her hazel eyes stare through me. Almost as if she can decode all of my thoughts.
But I despise her. Keep telling yourself that.
“Umm hello? What are you doing here?” She waves her hands in front of my face.
“Oh—” I clear my throat. “I’m here so we can practice for the chicken race.”
“Seriously? You want to practice with me?” She gasps, putting her hand on her forehead, pretending to faint.
“Yes, do you have time now? Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want you to slow us down tomorrow.”
“Ha! There he is. I’m glad you’re back, Grumpy. If anyone is going to slow us down, it’s you.” Her pointer finger stabs my chest.
“Ouch.” I rub where her finger just made contact.
“Don’t be dramatic. Come on, let’s go, no one's here now anyway I can close up early for the day.”
“I’ll wait for you outside fuddy-duddy. ” I use the nickname I gave her yesterday, knowing all too well it agitates her. The glare she sends my way confirms it.