I put down the siphon soIcould wrap my arms aroundJen, letting her cry into me.Ittook us both a moment to compose ourselves– while my face stayed dry,Icould feel my breathing growing shallow– andIrested my head on her shoulder until she stepped back and nodded.
“You okay?”Iasked, my own voice thick with emotion.
She shook her head. “Ofcourse not,” she said. “Ihate thatIcan’t give you what you want.Fromthe momentIknew your mom was sick,Ilooked into how to get you here.Weeven talked about her giving up her parental privileges so you could stay here.”
I frowned. “Youdid?”
Jen nodded. “Butyou were too old.You’djust gotten intoNorthDakota, and … well, it just didn’t work.”
“I can’t believe you would have done that for me,”Isaid, my mouth dry.Jenhad always felt like a parent to me, but to know that she’d been willing to literally become one?Itmeant everything.
Jen turned and put her hands on my shoulders. “Teddy,Iwould doanythingfor you.Ieven considered lettingMaggiego last year so you could stay, or just having her seasonally instead of all year, but she doesn’t make enough money off us anyway, so it didn’t close the gap.”
I shook my head. “I’mglad you didn’t do that.”
“Yeah,”Jensaid softly, making it clear that there was a lot under the surface that she wasn’t saying. “Me, too.”
I made a mental note to ask about that sometime.IfJenhad found happiness somewhere,Iwanted to know about it.Butfor now,Iwanted to put everything on the table.
“I have some ideas,”Isaid. “I’mnot saying they’d make it possible, butI’vebeen crunching the numbers.”
Jen laughed. “Ofcourse you have.”
“If you pay yourself less?—”
Jen shot me a look that told me that was a non-starter, thoughIsuspected it was because she paid herself basically nothing rather than that she wouldn’t do it.Ilaughed.
“I know– but hear me out.”
Jen nodded and pulled up a pair of stools from a neighbouring table.
“Show me what you’ve got,” she said. “I’mlistening.Nopromises, butIwant this, too, so let’s have a look.”
I pulled out my phone and showed her my ever-evolving spreadsheet.Shewas already paying me half the required salary for sponsorship, given thatIwas here six months out of the year, so we only needed to come up with the other half.I’dfigured out that ifJenpaid herself a bit less every month, and thenIpaid that same amount back to her in rent, then we’d get most of the way to the number we needed.We’dlose a good bit on taxes, butIfigured that was the price of living somewhere with public healthcare.
Jen looked at me with a tender expression. “You’vereally thought this through.”
Of courseIhad.Everymoment of every day thatIwasn’t atGwenynen,Iwanted to be.Iwas constantly planning how to get back– how to grow the business, how to make new products like the soap, learning better hive management techniques, pouring over weather forecasts and humidity data and soil readings to make sure everything went perfectly.
“Coming back late this year was the hardest thingI’vedone in a long time,”Iadmitted, “butIthought it would save us enough money to make a difference.Except, now thatI’mhere, it feels like it’s just as far away as ever, andIdon’t know what else to do.”
“Well, this is a good start,”Jensaid, pointing at my phone. “We’restill not quite there, but this makes it more doable thanIthought it would be.I’mannoyedIdidn’t think of the rent thing.It’sa great idea.”
“Right?”Iresponded excitedly, butJenheld up a finger.
“This will take time and hard work,Ted.Idon’t even pay myself as much as you’re suggesting the rent would be, and there’s still more to make up.Ineed to factor inChloe’ssalary, too.”
I felt myself wilt, even as a smile crept over my face.Iwas happy for her, even paired with the knowledge that it meant things taking longer for me. “You’regiving her the job?”
“She’s the best shot we have,”Jensaid, andIknew it was true. “Areyou telling me you think it’s a mistake?”
I thought of how many timesChloehad surprised me, doing something borderline miraculous while making it look easy as hell.Howmuch she lovedGwenynen, and the mead, and the bees, and this life.Howat home she was here.
I shook my head. “No, it’s the right thing to do.”
“I know you want this,” she said, bringing me into a hug and stroking my hair the way she had whenIwas a grieving college kid. “Butthe farm is a lonely life,Teddy.I’vebeen isolated here for years, especially after we lost your mom.Idon’t want that for you.”
I pulled back to look at her, sensing that we weren’t talking about the job anymore.Wewere talking aboutChloe, yes, but we were talking aboutJenherself, too.
