Chapter 25
Let’s pray.” Joe Taylor offered a palm to Harper who sat next to him, and after a beat, she caught on and held his hand. Everyone around the table joined the chain. Joe said grace.
“Amen.”
The table was filled with wholesome, nutritious food. Grace had plated a fresh green salad with mustard vinaigrette and a fresh roll with salted butter at each setting.
To Mary’s relief, the main dish was pot roast, not chicken.
Jake caught her eye and winked. “Gotcha,” he said.
She rolled her eyes in reaction. Though after seeing the axe, she didn’t want to think about how the beef got to the table either.
Dot sat across from Danny, who was quiet but laughed at the banter.
The twins teased him a lot, and he seemed to like it.
They told stories of how he used to fall asleep in the living room when they played video games and how Grace would call Danny’s mom and say she’d take him to school in the morning.
“All my best childhood memories are in this house,” he said.
“And he was always the best behaved.” Grace put a hand on Danny’s back.
Dot liked hearing about his childhood—she was fascinated by his story and curious about, well, him. She tried to put the brakes on her feelings, but someone, maybe Danny, had cut the lines.
AFTER DINNER, DESSERT was a platter of Scotcheroos.
“What are these?” Mary asked.
“You don’t have Scotcheroos in New York?” Jake teased. “You haven’t lived.”
“They’re a Wisconsin special,” Grace said. “A mix of peanut butter Rice Krispy treats with chocolate on top. Always served with homemade vanilla ice cream.”
“Courtesy of Bessie,” Tommy said to Harper.
“Every grandmother in Wisconsin knows how to make these,” Joe said.
While they enjoyed dessert, Dot asked Joe to tell her more about what rural Wisconsinites were feeling about the election.
“Oh no! Mom’s got a rule. No politics on Sundays,” Tommy said.
“It’s all right.” Grace nodded for Joe to go ahead. “They’re here to learn, not to argue.”
Joe said things had really changed since he was a young man. “Growing up, everyone I knew was a Democrat,” he said. “Now just about everyone outside of town votes Republican.”
“Why do you think that is?” Dot asked.
“It’s hard to say exactly. The politics here evolved over time. Certainly, economic issues like trade and energy have affected us a lot. We need more customers to buy our products, but when the cost of fuel gets too high, we can’t make a profit.”
Dot nodded along.
“And then you’ve got Washington thinking it knows how to take care of this land better than we do.
I say, this farm’s been in my family since the eighteen hundreds.
You think we don’t know how to care for it?
” Joe said, stopping to take a sip of iced tea.
“But also, to be honest, there’s been a lot of the cultural issues that drove people to the right. ”
“I agree,” Grace said. “It feels like politicians took all of us for granted all those years and just went for the city vote instead.”
Dot took it all in, making mental notes. She didn’t offer a defense of the Democrats, feeling it wouldn’t be polite. And that she didn’t know enough to be persuasive anyway. They were making some good points.
“But there’s pressure coming from all sides against us farmers now,” Joe said.
“You see, when these boys were growing up, and that includes Danny here, Grace took them to the Future Farmers of America and the 4-H clubs. That helped build character. And for youngsters to learn some skills. And now, I think about the kids in those clubs today and don’t know if they’d have anywhere to farm in the future. ”
“Why?” Mary asked, leaning in.
“I’ll give you an example. You see, our farm here is large by Wisconsin standards. Just over twelve hundred acres.”
“How big is that?” Harper had no idea how big an acre was.
“I’d guess it’s about the dimension of Central Park. So, a good size. Not the largest, by any means. But for this area, it’s a fair size.”
Joe gave them the short story of his great-grandfather emigrating from England to start the farm with his brothers and their wives.
“It’s a great all-American story,” Harper said. “Almost like Little House on the Prairie.”
“It was a bit like that in the beginning, that’s for sure. Over time, the farm grew and matured. We have good soil, too. And yet, we’re dangerously close to losing it all.” His words caught The Crew by surprise.
“Wait. How?” Dot asked.
“Well, right now we’re in a dispute with the governor’s office and the president.
Don’t get me wrong, I agree with them on creating more jobs and fulfilling campaign promises to get the economy going again—heck, I’m a Republican, too.
But they want to build some big manufacturing factory here, and they’ve determined that our farm, and two neighboring properties, are the best place for it. ”
“Why your place?” Dot asked, listening closely. “Seems like there’s a lot of farmland out here.”
“Well, we’re just outside of town, so the utilities would be easy to hook up.
They wouldn’t have to put new electric lines in.
Plus, they’re claiming this so-called public-private partnership will bring three hundred manufacturing jobs to the area and the nearest housing is in Cedar Falls.
They want us to sell, and they say they’re offering a fair price.
And if we don’t take their offer, they’re willing to shut us down and make us move.
It’s happened before. My high school buddy lost his farm in the same type of thing. Now he’s selling RVs over in Appleton.”
“But isn’t there any way to fight back?” Dot asked.
“Well, I could sue, and I’ve got a lawyer looking things over.
But I’d like to solve this without having to resort to court.
I’ve been in touch with the Secretary of Agriculture—I’ve known the guy for ages, and he loves farming.
And farmers. At least I thought he did. Heck, he grew up on a farm.
But every time I manage to get him on the phone, it seems like his hands are tied. ”
Joe looked through the big picture window out toward the barn. “And once they make that determination, it’s hard to beat it back.”
“But will they up their price and make it worth it to you?” Harper asked.
“They can try. In fact, they came in a few months ago with what they think is a good deal. It’s supposedly ‘fair market value’ but they don’t consider that a lot of the value in this place is the history of it.
My ancestors built all of this from scratch.
They even held on during the Great Depression.
I’ll be damned if I lose it to the government for what could be a boondoggle.
“Bunch of guys south of Milwaukee got burned by this same argument about a decade ago. They lost their farms to eminent domain when a foreign company said they’d start making some big TV screens.
Those jobs pay well—in theory. But around when Covid struck, the company was already in decline, and they used the pandemic as an excuse to walk away.
Not a single manufacturing job was ever created.
It makes me so mad.” He pounded the table once to make his point. Dot flinched.
“It’s hard to believe that they didn’t learn the lesson that time,” Grace said, placing a hand on her husband’s forearm to calm him, even though she shared his anger. “Those farms would still be in business today if they hadn’t been pressured to sell.”
“So, what can you do about it?” Dot asked.
“Well, sometimes you can’t do anything. You see, both Republicans and Democrats fall for these big plans. Then they use the government power to try to buy your farm. And if you don’t want to sell, well sometimes they just take it.”
“How can they do that? This is your land!” Harper said.
“Yes, I learned about this in law school,” Mary said.
“These disputes come up from time to time and get a lot of attention. It’s like David versus Goliath, and America loves to root for the underdog.
But they also like new highways and sports stadiums. As I recall, the lawsuits can drag on for years and even end up at the Supreme Court. ”
“Yep, that’s right. But that’s what I’m trying to avoid.
I’d like to get them to back down based on the fact that we run a productive, historic farm.
And I don’t want to look out onto my fields and see some big, ugly factory spewing Lord knows what into the air.
I don’t want to fight with them, but I will if I have to. ”
“We’re with you, Dad,” Tommy said.
“So, do you think you can get the government to back down?” Mary cut to the chase.
“Great question. It depends on who has better lawyers,” Joe said.
“Who do you think has better lawyers?” she asked.
“Well, that remains to be seen. There’s a hearing in a few weeks. Our guys better be ready.”
Everyone around the table let that sink in.
“And it’s unclear who the real investor is. I’ve got my suspicions,” Joe said.
“And what are those?” Mary asked.
“I think there’s some foreign entity behind it. Probably China. They’ve been trying to do this for years. Started with farms near military bases. And now it’s all about energy.”
The mood in the room had taken a dive with the thought of the Taylor farm being lost.
“Okay, enough of this. Let’s change the subject!” Grace sent the twins in to do the dishes, and the rest of the guests moved into the family room for coffee.
WITH THE DISHES done, everyone gathered in the sitting room around the large television. The Big Ten basketball tournament played on the big screen.
Danny caught Dot’s eye.
“How do you like Cedar Falls?” he asked, making a side conversation for just the two of them.
“Oh, it’s very charming.” Why did she suddenly feel so formal, like she was in nineteenth-century England?
“It is.” He nodded, a man of seemingly few words.
“I just want it to warm up so that I can get out and run like I used to in the city,” she said.
“Come on, it’s not that cold. I run all the time.”
“You do? It’s freezing!”
“I love to run in the cold. Clears my head,” he said. He was quiet a moment.
Dot didn’t fill the silence.
Finally, he broke it.
“Tell you what, when it warms up a bit, I’ll show you my favorite route. Goes up by the covered bridge.”
“I’d like that.” Dot had tired of running on the treadmill at their rental. And running with Danny would make her stick to good form.
Danny served her a coffee.
“How do you take it?”
“No sugar and a dash of almond milk, if they have it.”
“Almond milk? You know that’s not milk, right?”
“It’s milk. It says so on the carton.”
“Milk comes from mammals, not nuts.”
“Then why do they call it milk?”
“To fool you into buying it,” Danny said, looking around. “Don’t tell Joe you call it milk. He has thoughts on that.”
“I bet he does. Okay—let me change my order,” she said, catching herself flirting. “No sugar. Dash of real milk.”
“That’s more like it.” He poured her a cup and handed it to her. They clinked their mugs, nodded to each other. They each took a sip while maintaining eye contact.
Dot was the first to break the gaze. “By the way, I really love the bookstore in town,” she said. “The Jankowskis are so nice. Harper’s going to start reading for them during the Wednesday children’s hour.”
“They’ve always been very good to me,” he said. “I really want to try to help them figure out what they’re going to do with the store.”
“Do you think they’re going to have to sell it?”
“I hope not. But if they do, I’m afraid it won’t stay a bookstore.”
“That would be a shame.”
“Well, maybe they’ll think of something.” Danny’s knee moved and touched the side of Dot’s leg.
A spark shot through her, sharp and undeniable.
“I’ve been mulling over an idea for them,” Dot said, looking away, getting ahold of herself. “And it’s something I think you’d be perfect for. It’s a way to fix up the store and make it a little more . . . contemporary.”
“I’m all ears,” he said.
Feeling bold and excited about her idea, she decided to throw caution out the window. “Should we get together for a coffee and I can run it by you?”
He pulled out his phone and handed it to her. “Absolutely. Okay for me to have your number?”
Dot’s heart skipped a beat as she typed her number into his phone. She handed it back to him with a smile.
Grace and Joe noticed and made eye contact over Dot’s and Danny’s heads.
Joe waggled his eyebrows. Grace nodded. Another successful Sunday supper in the books.