Page 64 of Keeping it Local

I could hear Megan in the kitchen, so I grabbed Beth’s hand, leading her down the hall to her room. I’d been over to their house plenty of times, but since I lived alone, it was usually much easier for us to spend the night at my house or at least get together there. But we were here now, and there was no way I was driving back to my place. Beth was giving me that look, and I didn’t want to delay. I wanted to enjoy her—enjoy us, and if Megan was two rooms over while that happened, so be it.

As soon as I shut the door behind us, Megan called out, “I’m heading into town!”

Thank God.

“You think she’s leaving on our account?” Beth giggled into my neck.

“She definitely didn’t look like she was leaving before, but hey, I’m not complaining.” I pushed her down on the bed, stood between her legs, and pulled off my shirt.

She wrapped her legs around mine, and I almost fell to the ground, enjoying her warm body against mine after days going without.

Chapter 23

Beth

“Mom, I’ll be there in less than two weeks, and we can do a full audit of the books to figure out what’s going on,” I said, rummaging through my closet for my favorite sandals.

I was running late for work after Johnny unexpectedly spent the night. Not that I was complaining about it. It felt good, and after being frustrated with him and everything going on at home, it had been refreshing to leave all the drama at the door and have an evening with just us.

Now, I was putting out another fire at home, even though the Family Foods crisis wasn’t solved yet.

“Okay, okay,” Mom said, interrupting my thoughts. “I just can’t figure out what’s going on. Your dad is just… not what he used to be. It’s getting to me.” She sniffed.

I stopped and stood up, listening to her and dropping my shoes to the ground.

“Mom?” I paused. “Are you okay? Is there something else going on?” My brain started scanning through all the possibilities.

She was silent for a moment, and I had to ask again.

“Mom, tell me what’s going on.”

“Your dad fell again yesterday. He’s okay, but…”

The air left my lungs as she continued.

“I didn’t want to bother you. I know you’re already so busy with everything happening there, and I appreciate you helping with all the books while you haven’t even been here. It’s just a lot.”

“How is he? What happened?”

“He missed his footing going down the front steps. He seems like he’s okay, and when I took him in, the doctor said nothing was sprained or broken—thank the Lord—but he’s bruised again. This time on the other leg.”

“Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad earlier? I could have come home.”

“I think I wanted to pretend it wasn’t happening. He’s been so good, but this summer… he seems to be going downhill, and it scares me,” she said. I could hear the pain in her voice.

“Oh, Mom.” I sat on the bed, putting my face in my hands. I could be late for work for this.

After the initial stroke, he had been uneven on his feet, but over the years, he seemed to get better. Of course, that was until recently. He was creeping up there in age, while still trying to run the business with my mom. Even with Michael helping lead the lion’s share of the farming operations, I knew he was doing too much manual work, and every time he went out into the barn, he was risking having an issue. He should be looking at retiring, and instead, his stubborn personality was getting in the way of what his body needed, and what my mom prayed would happen. I knew she wanted him done.

“It’s fine. He’s fine. I just worry. You know me.” She tried to brush it off, and I didn’t like it.

“What about Michael?” I asked her. “Is he able to do more so that Dad can back off? Maybe that needs to be looked at.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

I felt helpless being three hours away when she was struggling. She was carrying the load while I was out doing my own thing, working at the rental shop, in a relationship that clearly wasn’t going anywhere, and taking classes that were not doing anything to help the immediate need in the family.

If I stayed in Port St. Clair—something I’d come to really want—my parents would not be able to take care of the business by themselves. It wasn’t feasible. It was either I come home and fix the business, or it would dissolve. All of our family was out of state. I was the only one who could help. And when I moved back to Randall, it would mean being all in on the farm and leaving my own dreams on the sideline.