Tyler

We were midway through our second movie when the pilot said we’d crossed the Texas border. Hen looked away from my phone and leaned close to the window.

“Look at the little squares!”

The joy in her voice made me smile so damn big. I looked over her shoulder, seeing all the farmland below. My chest swelled with pride, knowing that less than two percent of the population was growing food for all of the US and then some. My family was part of that number.

“What are the squares with circles?” Hen asked.

“Those are the ones with center pivots. They’re like giant sprinklers that spin around the field.”

“Way cool,” she said, looking back at me for a moment. “I’ve seen some farmland in California, but not like this.” We watched the landscape go by as it gave way from open space and farmland to the bustling city streets of Dallas.

The pilot announced our descent, and she smiled over at me.

“Will your parents pick us up?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I have a truck in long-term parking. We’ll get lunch, and then I’ll drive you out to the farm. Everyone’s excited to meet you.”

Her nervous smile wrenched my heart. But if she knew how much I cared for her, she’d know how little she had to worry. My parents weren’t the kind to judge—if we kids were happy, then they were happy. (Even if Rhett had them shaking their heads from time to time.)

We grabbed our suitcases from the baggage claim and then went out to the parking lot. It had been a few months since my truck had been driven, but it was nice and clean and fired right up.

“Why do you keep a truck out here?” Henrietta asked.

“It’s just easier not to bother anyone when I come to town. Cottonwood Falls is about two hours from the airport.”

“Oh wow,” she said. “You really are from the boonies.”

“Hey,” I laughed.

We joked and talked until we got to the restaurant for lunch, and then we talked some more, and then it was time to take her to the farm. On the drive, I pointed out every special place to me. There was the turnoff that led to a cornfield where I lost my virginity in the back of my truck. (Original, I know.) And then there was the rival school our football team always beat despite having half as many guys on the team. We drove past the movie theater where we took all our dates.

Then I saw something that caught me off guard. A for-sale sign in front of the old schoolhouse. Both of my parents had gone to school in this building, but they built a new school before my siblings and I started. For the last thirty years, the local hardware store had used it for extra storage.

I stopped in front of the building, staring from the sign to the building.

They were selling it.

“What is this?” Hen asked, looking at the brick facade through the window. “Did you go to school here?”

I shook my head. “My parents did... I always thought it was stupid that they filled it with junk instead of using it.”

“Using it for what?” Hen asked.

“With all that square footage, it would make a great apartment building. People would go crazy over the historical details inside—if they haven’t been completely ruined.”

Hen got out her phone, tapping on the screen.

“I know it’s not that interesting but—”

She held up her finger, putting her phone to her ear. After a couple seconds, she said, “Hey, we were wondering if we could take a tour of the schoolhouse?... I mean, we’re here now.... Great! I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

I stared at Hen. “What did you do?”

She laughed, pushing her door open. “I wanted to see inside. Why don’t we look around until the agent gets here?”

Shaking my head, I followed Hen out of the truck. Life with her was certainly an adventure.