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She chuckled under her breath, and I shook my head. “So, Dad still didn’t want them to take the goats back?”
“No.” She grinned, showing off her sharp teeth. “We spent the next week chasing after the damn things. They were all over town, eating laundry off the lines, walking around the main square, sometimes barging into people’s homes. By the time your dad put up a higher fence, only two goats were left. And I was so sick of them, I told him to just sell them.”
I was lost for words. So my father, with his plethora of lectures, tips, and loads of good advice, had done something so stupid? And wouldn’t even own up to it?
“He lost all your money, then?” I asked incredulously.
Mother huffed and got up to finish dinner. “Of course not! I put my half away as soon as he started talking about the goat investment. We invested it into the woodworking workshop. My father was a carpenter, and your dad had apprenticed with him. He had good skills and only got better with time. We did really well.”
I shook my head and drained my beer. “Well. So Scarlett was right.”
Ma snorted and turned to me. “You listen to that girl, son. She’s got a good head on the feeble neck of hers. You really had a stroke of luck, getting a wife like that.”
I grinned and got up to kiss her cheek. “In that, you’re right, Ma. Thanks for telling me about the goats.”
She sniffed imperiously and fixed me with a hard stare. “You can repay me by getting me a grandkid as soon as…”
“Goodbye, Ma,” I said, backing out of the kitchen. “We’ll see you at dinner!”
I went back to my carpentry shop, where I was working on a special set of furniture. It would stay in our bedroom and wouldn’t help with making any grandkids, that was for sure. After all, my wife would use it to fuck me, not the other way around.
THE END
