Chapter Two
Daisy
The taxi drops me off at the top of the dirt road, stating he “won’t go down them damn roads no more because they ain’t good for my car.”
With a sigh, I grab my suitcases and backpack from the trunk and start walking. The taxi takes off, dust lifting up and fading into the air surrounding me. The road isn’t paved, or even, so pulling two suitcases on wheels isn’t easy, but I only have half a mile to go before I reach the house.
After walking for a few minutes, I reach the hill and look down upon the old farmhouse. There’s a pang in my chest as a swarm of memories hits me. Sitting on the front porch with fresh lemonade and pecan pie was my favorite thing to do with Grannie.
I know when I get to the house, it’s going to be empty. No sweet smell of pie. No smiling Grannie. No hugs. Just an empty farmhouse full of memories.
I was assured that Charlie, the helper Grannie had, was still around and was taking care of the animals until I could get here and figure out what to do with them.
Grannie taught me about caring for a farm, but thinking of doing it all myself is overwhelming.
It was always something we did together.
But what better thing to do while taking a break from veterinarian school than spending time on a farm?
Maybe it’ll teach me helpful things; things you can’t learn in school.
I know enough now, but to be honest, I wasn’t always paying attention.
I loved helping Grannie, but that’s all I did—help.
I didn’t run it or take over or even have to take the lead.
I just did what she told me. And now here I am, alone on the farm, with not a clue what to do with it.
I didn’t think not being able to go to school would be a good thing, yet having the time off is helpful since I have to be here.
And thanks to all the money left to me from Grannie, I will be able to go back to school and won’t have to worry about bills for a while—right on time, considering my cell phone was shut off literally on my way here.
I should get it paid, but maybe distance from that world will be good for me until I can process everything.
I’m able to stay here and take my time cleaning out the house all summer until I go back to school in the fall.
Of course I can’t keep it, as much as I hate thinking about getting rid of it.
I need to go through her things, figure out what I want to keep, and then put it up for sale.
School is at the other end of the state, so it’s not like I can commute.
And paying someone to keep up the place would be too much money.
I guess I could consider renting it out, rather than selling it.
That could be a steady income for me while I’m in school.
I wouldn’t have to work at the smelly bowling alley anymore, but then I’d have to hire someone to check on the place and make sure the tenants are doing as they should.
That’s not the sort of thing Charlie would be good at. He’s not much of a people-person.
I sigh, switching my grip on the suitcase because my wrist is starting to ache. The sun is beating down on me, and I can already feel a sunburn coming on. Just a little more to go and I’ll be there. Not that it’ll be any less hot inside, since Grannie doesn’t have AC.
I leave the suitcases on the front porch by the door while I walk to the end of it, lift up the faded pink flower pot in the corner to get the hideaway key.
I smile as I pick it up, recalling the day Grannie and I painted this—and many others.
They’re placed around the farm for decoration more than they are housing plants.
Grannie was good at taking care of animals, but growing things? Not for her.
Grannie took care of me since I was a baby.
Both my parents died in a car wreck when I was three, and Grannie took responsibility for me.
I had a good life growing up here and loved taking care of the animals.
Grannie never made it my responsibility, but she did try to teach me a lot of things.
I’d get up in the mornings and help her tend to the farm, and I’m pretty sure it won’t be too difficult to get back into the swing of things, but it has been a long time since I’ve had to do so much physical activity.
All I’ve had are visits over Christmas for the last two years while attending college.
The key slips into the lock easily, and I turn the knob and shove the door open.
It’s hot and stale, as it usually is during the warmer months.
It’s cool today, but that’s rare. Soon enough, I’ll be cooking in here.
Grannie didn’t believe in air conditioner, and so…
there isn’t one. And even if we had one, I’m not sure the electricity could handle it. So, fans it is.
With another sigh, I bring my things in and close the door behind me.
I look around the spacious kitchen, taking in the decorations covering the walls.
They’re all animal-themed, of course. Cows.
Chickens. Horses. The chickens were always her favorite, and I never understood why.
She said she liked that they gave her food consistently, and without much work.
The horses were just because she liked them.
From the cows, she got the milk, of course.
Swore it was better than getting it from the store.
I move into the main sitting room, which looks exactly how you’d expect it.
Dark wood floors and walls, lots of pictures on the walls, crocheted blankets on the well-worn couch, floral pillows…
and a lot of dust. I put my bags near the stairs and start opening up all the windows in the house to air it out.
Once that’s done down here, I bring my bags upstairs to my room, glancing at Grannie’s closed door as I pass it.
I’m not ready to go in there just yet. I’ve already smelled hints of her here and there, even though it’s been a few months.
Time has destroyed most of that, I’m sure, but I bet her room still smells just like her, and I’m not prepared to handle that.
I go out the back door, walking down the creaky steps and onto the dirt path that leads to the barn, and further back, Charlie’s house.
The horses neigh and the cows moo from the pasture.
I spot them from here, grazing on grass.
Grannie only ever kept two horses and two cows.
There was a goat, but he passed away last October.
She told me all about it when I was here for Christmas.
She also let me know that she only had three chickens left, but that was good enough for her because three eggs a day was all she needed.
As long as they’re happy, they give an egg a day. That’s what she’d tell me.
The land is well-taken care of, and I have Charlie to thank for that, which is why I’m heading over to his place. I want to let him know I’m here and come up with a plan for what we’re going to do.
I pass the chickens in their pen, noting the same three I saw the last time I was here. They stare at me, watching closely.
“Odd,” I mutter as I keep going.
I feel their eyes on me as I walk, so I stop. They’re still staring when I look back. I shake my head and keep going.
Charlie’s house is settled on the back corner of the property, right on the tree line. A dirt road runs along the trees and meets the one that leads to Grannie’s.
The door is pulled open before I reach it. Charlie smiles wide.
“Hiya, Charlie,” I say, giving him a hug when I reach him.
He’s been around for as long as I can remember, and I never understood why he and Grannie didn’t date. They’re around the same age, Charlie being a few years older, but he’s cute for an old man. Rosy cheeks, head full of white hair, and a neatly trimmed beard. Plus, he’s hard-working and caring.
“I’ve been wondering when I’d see you, Miss Daisy. How are you?” He frowns, giving me a sympathetic look.
“As good as can be.”
Nodding, he ushers me inside.
“I just made a fresh jug of lemonade,” he says as he goes to the fridge and pulls it open.
Charlie’s house is half the size of Grannie’s. A little bigger than my apartment back in the city. The kitchen and dining room are a combo, the living room and bedroom are just the right size, and the bathroom is small. Just big enough to fit what’s needed and enough space to move around.
“Have a seat,” he says, putting the glass on the table big enough for two.
Smiling at him, I pull out the scratched-up wooden chair and take a seat. The glass is already starting to condensate, so I pick it up and take a sip.
“You always did make the best lemonade.”
“And I told that to Agnes every day of her life,” he says with a chuckle, taking the seat across from me. He watches me as I take another sip and put the glass down. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get in touch with you,” he says.
“That’s not your fault.”
“I reached out to the hospital plenty of times to have them call you when she first got there. I only just found out that you never knew—when that lawyer called the grocer to leave a message for me.”
“Charlie, I promise it’s okay. It’s not your fault.”
He nods, still looking ashamed. “I tried finding her phone book to call you myself, but it wasn’t anywhere in plain sight, and I didn’t want to disrespect her things.”
I reach across the table and take his hand. “I’m sorry you lost her too.”
His eyes shine with tears, and he squeezes my hand.
“What’s your plans?” he asks.
“Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.
” He raises a brow. “I can’t stay here forever because of school, but I do have the whole summer off.
I’m going to stay a while, go through her things, and think about what to do.
” I keep my voice soft as I say the next part.
“If I end up selling, I’ll give you this piece of the property. ”
“Oh no, you can’t do that. You can’t split the property.”
“Charlie, I can’t keep it.”
“Then I’ll go somewhere else.” He nods firmly.
I frown. “That’s crazy. Why not just split it?”
“That’s not what Agnes wanted. You know all the trouble she went through with them fellas all that time ago. We can’t go disrespecting her by splitting it now. It’d make all her hard work for nothing.”
Grannie was always having it out with someone, but no one worse than some guys from before I was born who were trying to take her land from her for their own use.
“No offense, but that was a long time ago, Charlie, and I don’t see any other option.”
“Look, if it comes down to it, Daisy, I’ll move. Please,” he says very seriously. “I beg of you. Do not break up the property.”
I don’t know why this is so important to him, but I agree. Because if he’s okay moving, it would be easier to sell as a whole, rather than figuring out how to split it up.
“Okay, Charlie. I won’t split the property.”
I finish my glass of lemonade, and we catch up on what I’ve been doing the last couple of months, and then I make the walk back to the house. Just in time for good ole’ Ellen Mathews from across the way to knock on the front door.