Chapter Fourteen
George
I lay out a stunning variety of flowers across a sheet of parchment paper on my kitchen counter.
I’m intentional with my choices, knowing Madison seems to appreciate all hues of violet.
I want to make her a special arrangement for her hotel room, especially after she told me she’s staying in town for the rest of the week.
I trim the lower leaves off the stalks of bellflower and purple aster before I pause and take in a deep whiff of mint I harvested.
The whorls of flowers open in a cluster at the top of the plant, the aromatic leaves reminding me of the minty sun tea my grandmother used to make.
She used to place a large jar beneath the full noon-day sun on the front porch steps to let it steep for hours.
I continue to trim the prickly spindles of a stalk of boneset and marvel at the tall spikes of delphinium petals. Filling a pitcher with fresh water, I arrange the flowers until I’m satisfied with the feast of purple, violet, and lavender colors.
Frankie circles my ankles and meows as if asking me the same question currently running through my mind.
“I don’t know when I’ll see her again, Frankie.” I kneel and run a hand across her speckled back, making her arch with pleasure. “But I sure hope it’s soon. Maybe when I drop this off at her hotel?”
There’s a knock at the back door, and I freeze. Did I just manifest Madison again on the fly?
“It’s me, George.”
My grandfather’s voice makes me flinch with disappointment, but only briefly. I adore Pop and would do anything for him.
“Come on in.”
With my back turned, I can hear the old man’s boots clomp across the worn linoleum in a slow stride as I clean up the mess of discarded leaves and stems on the counter.
“What’re ya workin’ on this morning?”
“Oh, nothing.”
“Nothing?” He sniffs the air. “Is that mint I smell?”
“Yes.”
“Reminds me of your grandmother’s sun tea, doesn’t it?”
“It sure does.”
He notices the flowers displayed in the pitcher. “Well, this arrangement is mighty pretty. I would’ve never thought to add mint to a bouquet. You’ve always had a great eye, son.”
I look at my creation again and smile, thankful for the compliment.
“By the way, whose car was that parked out front yesterday? Did you have a visitor?”
I know this inevitable conversation needs to happen, surprised yesterday when Pop didn’t come over to investigate. The man’s curiosity has been known to get the best of him. But I know my grandfather rests most weekends, his doctor insisting he needs to slow down.
“Umm, yes, sir, I did have a visitor. It was Madison. She’s in town on business. I met her at the produce stand.” I turn around, holding the wadded-up parchment paper filled with scraps from my flower arrangement, and notice his eyebrows rise.
“What?” I ask.
He clears his throat. “Nothing. Nothing at all. I think it’s great you met Madison. Did she tell you we met too?”
I walk past him and throw away the trash. “She did. Said she ran into you while you were in town last week.”
“That’s right. I, uh, met her while I was having dinner at Jenny’s place. Madison is a very nice girl.”
“She’s not a girl, Grandpa. Madison is a woman.”
He chuckles. “Yes, you’re right. A pretty woman, don’t you think?”
I cross my arms and rest my backside against the farmhouse sink. “Yes.”
“And did you pick those flowers for her?” He points toward the counter.
I sheepishly glance at the violet-themed arrangement, its beauty undeniable. “What if I did?”
“Good for you. I think Madison will like it very much. Is she coming over again today? Is that when you’re giving it to her?”
My shoulders slump. Uncrossing my arms, I hang my head. “I haven’t gotten that far, Pop.”
He comes toward me and clamps a hand on my shoulder. “Well, did you get her phone number? Today is Sunday, so she’s probably free.”
“Maybe…”
“Hey! I’ve got a bright idea. Why don’t you invite her over for supper? We can grill some chicken and veggie kabobs. Maybe I’ll track down the old ice cream maker in the cellar, and we can rustle up some homemade vanilla? I think I can find the recipe in your grandma’s recipe box. How about it?”
Leave it to my grandfather to come up with a plan.
A plan to see beautiful Madison again and gift her with the flowers.
Add eating ice cream together, and it’s probably one of the best plans Pop has come up with in ages.
My lips curl into a broad grin for a brief moment before fading back into a frown.
“But I didn’t get her number.”
He waves me off. “Don’t you worry about that. I’ll give Jenny a quick call. She’ll have it.”
Several minutes later, I watch my grandfather’s truck pick up dust as he heads into town for special groceries for our impromptu supper plans. The man was true to his word and called Jenny, who happily provided Madison’s number.
My voice warbles with nerves as I speak into the phone after she answers on the first ring.
“M… Madison?”
“George?”
“Yes. It’s me. George Jamison.”
“Good morning, George. How are you?”
“I’m good. How are you?”
I actually feel uncomfortable; I’m not used to idle phone chitchat. But Pop insisted I should be the one to invite Madison over for dinner, not him.
“I’m great. What are you up to today? A little fishing? Or maybe picking more flowers and vegetables? You’ve got the farm all to yourself again, right?”
I lick my lips before I blurt out, “You like homemade ice cream?”
There’s a long pause before she answers. “I do. Why do you ask?”
“Because my grandfather and I thought getting out the old ice cream maker and assembling a batch would be fun. Would you like to join us? We’re also grilling some chicken kabobs. Pop is a great griller, and he said he’d like to see you again too.”
“George? Are you inviting me over for dinner?” Her soft voice has a certain lilt as if she’s smiling from across the line.
“I’m… I’m trying to.” I exhale a noisy breath.
She giggles. “Well, you’re doing a great job. And don’t worry. You had me at ‘ice cream.’”
I wrinkle my brow, unsure of what she means. “Say that again, please?”
“The answer is yes!”
***
Sitting on the top step of my grandfather’s front porch, I lick my spoon.
The metal is cold against my tongue. Homemade vanilla ice cream is one of my favorite desserts, and this batch is one of the best I can remember.
The frozen treat is topped off with the ripest red strawberries, adding a delicious extra layer I can’t get enough of.
“Mmmm,” Madison moans.
Her spoon clinks against the empty antique dessert bowl as she sets it aside. She appears relaxed while sitting on the wicker loveseat, her knees and bare feet tucked up under her sundress. The ceiling fan gives off a light breeze, only slightly helping with the humidity.
“Good stuff,” Pop remarks. He rocks back and forth in one of the rocking chairs, his movements slow and easy.
It’s a lazy summer evening when the colors of dusk are proof that God is everywhere.
Madison speaks as if tracking my thoughts in real time. “It’s your favorite time of day, isn’t it, George? You love the sunsets.”
“I do,” I reply.
I push my empty bowl near Earl. The big dog sniffs and licks the melted ice cream remnants with his big tongue.
“Ralph? Tell me more about your property. I know George is partial to the flower fields.” She leans forward and makes eye contact with me. “And thanks again for the beautiful arrangement you made for me.”
I beam. “You’re welcome.”
She turns her attention to Pop again. “Ralph? Are there any particular areas of the property you’re particularly fond of?”
He sits up with purpose, his expression gleaming with nostalgia. “I love it all. I’m a fourth-generation farmer. This wasn’t something I fell into. It was gifted to me, and something I want to hold on to.”
I look up at Madison and watch her bow her head and nod. “I understand. After being here a few times, I get why you’d never want to leave.”
He points toward the horizon. “You see that big oak tree in the distance?”
Madison sits up and presses her bare feet onto the floorboards, looking toward the tree with interest. I notice her toenails are painted a different color today, the bright fuchsia reminding me of the hanging baskets of begonias my grandmother used to tend.
Instinctively, my eyes roam to the empty hooks across the front of the porch, my heart aching for her.
“I see the oak tree. I’ll bet it’s beautiful in the fall when the leaves turn.”
“It sure is. Underneath that tree, I got down on one knee and proposed to my Rosie.”
I listen intently, my gaze traveling to the big oak and imagining Grandma Rosie saying, “Yes.”
“And over there near the windmill used to be another big tree, but lightning struck it several years ago. It used to have a rope swing on it where my little girl used to play. I changed it out to a tire swing when George was old enough to use it.” He pulls a faded blue bandanna from his back pocket and swipes at his eyes. “Lots of memories on this land.”
“They’re beautiful memories, Ralph. Can you tell me more about your ancestors who started the farm?”
He lifts his tired body up and out of the rocker with a slight groan.
His cowboy boots shuffle across the worn planks of the porch, and he stops at the handrail, gripping the wood while looking out over the land.
The streaks of sunset color are mesmerizing, the sky emblazoned in burnt orange and periwinkle.
“My great-great granddaddy bought this land for a hundred an acre. He’d just gotten married when he signed the papers.”
I watch as Madison joins my grandfather at the railing. “Wow. What a bargain.”
“You got that right.” He points to the barn. “He and his brothers built the barn with their bare hands. And every single fence post, as far as your eye can see, was put into the ground by a Jamison. When I was just a boy, we used to bale all the hay and harvest what we planted.”
“Still do,” I chime in.
Madison and Pop look down at me, where I’m still sitting on the stairs. I add, “And we still catch bluegill in the pond beyond the fields. And don’t forget about the old fort and tree house we built together. It’s still standing near Pine Mountain Ridge.”
He chuckles. “I haven’t thought of that fort in years.”
“A fort and a tree house?” Madison grins. “I’d love to see it sometime.”
I gather my licked-clean bowl and stand. “Well then, I’ll take you there this week.”
“I’d like that.”
My grandfather looks back and forth between the two of us and clears his throat. “Well, I’ll leave you two youngins’ to enjoy the rest of the evening. It’s getting late for this old timer.”
Madison reaches out as he starts toward the front door and palms his arm. “Thank you so much for dinner and the ice cream. And for sharing some of your memories with me. This isn’t just any piece of land.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not just land. It’s a piece of me.” He gestures toward me. “And it’s a piece of my grandson. You can’t put a dollar amount on what it’s worth.”
She nods. “I understand. Goodnight, Ralph.” She hugs him around his neck, and as I watch them, I’m secretly hoping I might get a neck hug like that before the night is over too.
“Goodnight, Pop.”
“Goodnight, y’all.”
The door clicks shut, and Madison looks right at me. “Your grandfather is one of the sweetest men I’ve ever met.”
I nod. “He loves this farm. The older he gets, the more sentimental he’s become.”
“It’s understandable. I mean, look at this place. And the sunset, oh my gosh, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my entire life. No wonder they’re on your list of favorite things.”
I watch as the last bits of light glow across her pretty face, her big smile rivaling the soft colors fading into twilight.
“Told ya.”