Page 85 of Your Two Lips
My stomach grumbled. “Thanks, Mom.” I selected the biggest one and set the rest on the desk, Dad’s desk, now my desk.
“You need some fresh coffee with that. I’ll be right back.” Mom grabbed my insulated tumbler and hit the door like she was on fire. Okay …
Dad took a seat across from me, a large envelope in his hand. He bumped it against his thigh as he rubbed his chin with the other hand. He had something to say, and the apple muffins were here to ease the pain.
Fine. I was taking care of things as well as he did. I hadn’t missed a beat. If he didn’t see that, it was his problem. And I would figure out a way to build the resort soon. I closed the laptop and leaned back in my chair, his old chair, to eat my treat and wait for the next bomb.
“Your granddad loved this farm. There were times I loved it more than others. Those days in the cabin of the big tractor, driving the field rows, got damn boring. Your mom suggested I listen to those books on audio, and it made a difference listening to the latest Jack Ryan thriller. I shared your mom’s library account.” He shrugged. “A few months ago, I finished my book, and the next one I wanted wasn’t available yet. I still had a lot more field to cover that day, so I started one of your mom’s books.” He looked around the farm office like he was seeing it for the first time. This was going to be a long story. Maybe as long as the book. I was going to need another muffin and that coffee. Where was Mom?
“It was something about being brave in a wilderness.” He squinted his eyes. “I thought it was another novel about a hiker. It was more of a self-help book.” He scratched at something on his rough and faded pants. Well, this was getting interesting.
“It was by a professor in Texas who researched shame and other stuff.” He glanced at me, but I kept chewing. “It was engaging, and I liked her accent. She talked about perfectionism and needing approval from others.”
He gently waved his arm around. “Your granddad had big dreams for this place. It was his first priority.Buy land, they don’t make it anymore, and all that.” I nodded my understanding as he met my eyes.
“My job was to take those dreams forward, and I did. The farm grew. I thought I owed it to him to keep to the plans he had, like changing things disrespected him.”
“Dad, I—”
“Listening to that book, I remembered thinking about my dad’s expectations and how he would feel about some of the choices I’ve made. For a long time, I felt guilty because I hadn’t kept things exactly the way he wanted them. I was a grown man sitting in the cab of a hundred-thousand-dollar tractor, feeling like I let my old man down. He’d been dead for years. The business was successful, and I still wanted his approval. Approval that would never come, nor should it, because it didn’t matter anymore. This farm fulfilled his life, and it fulfilled mine too.”
He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, the envelope dangling. “That heart attack was a wake-up, not about the farm, but about your mom. It’s her turn to be first. It’sherapproval I want now.” He rubbed his hand over the gray stubble on his chin.
“I can’t control the future of this farm. I can’t make it perfect. It’s not perfect. I was acting like my dad. He meant well, and I did too.” He stood in front of me. “I had my run. It’s your turn now. You and Lucas and Tess. I signed your papers.” He tossed the envelope onto the desk. “You’ll also find another document in there. The land for the resort is wholly yours now.”
I blinked as I picked up the package and opened it. My father deeded me land outright? I pulled out the paper with the County Clerk’s seal. He deeded me the land for the resort, plus an extra hundred yards on each side.
“It’s not favoritism. It’s faith. You have my approval, not that it matters. You’ve always had it, and I’m sorry I didn’t make that clearer.” I looked up at him. “Your mother may have talked with me a time or two. I have no doubt you can run this farm and open your resort too, particularly if I left you to it.”
“Dad, I don’t know what to say.”
“Thanks is customary.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I stood and hugged him as Mom reappeared with my coffee.
Too many thingswere going through my mind. Emily and the farm. I needed a hard ride on my bike. Even though it brought painful images of Emily, it was still my go-to place for working shit out.
I texted Luis that I was taking a little longer for lunch and I’d be back.
I pushed hard, my tires eating up the miles to the river and home in an hour. That was a first. I dropped my bike at Mom’s and planned to go out again after work. I still hadn’t figured out how to talk to Em.
Mom stepped out on the deck with a sandwich. “Hungry?”
“Were you expecting me?”
“No. I made this for me, but you can have it. Come in. Keep me company while I make another.”
I climbed the steps, chugging the rest of my water, and followed her into the kitchen.
“Thanks for talking to Dad about … everything.”
She smiled. “You don’t seem as happy as I expected.”
“A lot on my mind, I guess.”
She stopped separating the slices of heart-healthy cheese. “Is Emily okay? I haven’t seen her in a while, but then you’ve been so busy with work.”
“I called it quits. I didn’t think she wanted a future. It sure seemed that way the night of the family dinner.”
