Page 65 of Till The Cows Come Home
“Then we shall.” He chuckled.
“I need to brush my teeth and grab a hoodie,” I said, already twisting my curls into a bun. “I got some extra toothbrushes a while ago, in case you’d like to, as well.”
“How domesticated of you,” he teased, following me to the sink.
After we finished, I threw my sweatshirt on, and Miles poured my coffee into a thermos.
“Mmm, peppermint mocha,” I hummed as the remaining mint from my toothpaste mixed with the chocolate in my cup.
“Let’s go, you heathen.” He chuckled, guiding me by the small of my back out the door.
As always, the ride was short, and as I hopped out of thetruck, I felt the confidence in progress I had minutes ago slowly diminish. I couldn’t seem to help that the closer we got to the rubble, the slower my feet moved. Everything in me knew this was necessary, but my body screamed with protest, begging me not to continue. We approached the front of the barn and, to my surprise, the front door I’d walked through my entire life no longer existed. Some of the original beams remained, but the normal entrance had expanded into a gaping hole.
“You don’t have to do this,” Miles murmured, stepping from beside me until his body was in front of me, blocking the view. His eyes were glued to mine, surely noticing the tears that began to cascade with no consent of my own.
“I want to. I need to. I may just need you to drag me along for a moment until my feet remember how to carry me.”
He nodded, carefully stepping over the threshold and once his footing was steady, he turned, outstretching a hand to me. I set my thermos down on a pile of brick outside, wiping the sweat that had accumulated onto my jeans before taking the hand still extended to me.
Once I was inside, my breath escaped me. The remaining interior was vast and empty, as if the flames created a tornado that cleared everything in its path. The vastness, though, was what allowed me to see what remained. And as we reached the remnants of the parlor, I could see the concrete pad stood strong, but the tubing was non-existent and the metal equipment was warped.
“This is what I’m most excited about,” Miles whispered from beside me.
“This excites you?”
“Different doesn’t always mean disaster, right?” He waited for my nod of agreement before continuing. “I loved the location of the parlor, but the equipment was outdated. There areadjustable milkers that allow you to change the height depending on who’s milking. It’ll make it even more accessible, you’ll never need to reach or use the stool. I’ll show the catalog with all the choices later.”
“That’s really thoughtful.” I sighed.
“I was always thinking about it. I just didn’t have a way to change anything until now.”
We continued to wander, trailing through the barn as if we were following the blueprints he’d scratched out earlier, ending at the space he’d assigned for my classroom.
“Miss. Baker,” he gestured to the space, “this will be your oasis.”
“It looks so huge.”
The space in front of me had always been cluttered with various closets and walls, and I’d never known it had the potential to be this open. Miles stepped away from my side, walking a lap around the area.
“As soon as people find out you’re doing this, every kid in this town will be in this room. It needs to be huge. I plan on making you tons of work tables in every height imaginable. You’ll be able to teach toddlers to teenagers.”
Tears swelled as I envisioned everything I’d thought about since Mr. Bloom approached me at the market. I wanted to share my knowledge so badly, and I used the lack of resources or space as an excuse, but now there was no excuse. This was my opportunity, and god did it feel good.
My steps quickened as I closed the space between Miles and I, burying my face into his chest as soon as I made impact.
“Thank you,” I mumbled through tears. “Thank you so much.”
“You deserve it. Please don’t ever forget that.”
Our stillness uncovered a faint beeping and as Miles guided me back out the gaping front door to investigate, wewere met with a fleet of equipment being unloaded, waiting patiently for permission to start our new beginning.
I’d be lying if I said a few hundred tears didn’t fall as the first bulldozer paved a path through the wreckage, but knowing the path was being laid for a future filled with growth and possibilities allowed the sadness to dissipate, and excitement took over as I began to envision what lay ahead.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Miles
I’d been emailing back and forth with an engineer to get the blueprints designed, sending updates as Sage’s thoughts and desires trickled through, but after the walkthrough this morning, I felt as if stones were finally ready to be set. I’d been tinkering with outlines since the night of the fire, first desperately trying to replicate what was there in a fit of exhaustion, as if I’d forgotten the second the walls gave in. But as time passed, I began erasing walls, changing what it had been to what it now was, which left a little room for a lot of opportunity.
