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“That’s all I’m asking.”
Pop’s eyes slide to me. We both know that she is infamous for meddling. As a mother to six rebellious and rambunctious sons, she has a knack for orchestrating meet-cutes with women she deems worthy of her boys. In fact, she is the one who introduced me to my wife.
Heather was the daughter of one of the ladies in Mom’s prayer group at church. Mom hired her to run the front desk at the campground the same summer she hired me to be the on-site manager. She knew if she just put the two of us in the same orbit, we’d fall madly in love and live happily ever after. And she was right. Before the summer was over, I was one hundred percent smitten with the shy beauty. The next summer, I put a ring on her finger.
We were blissfully happy for four glorious years before a diagnosis blew our bubble apart. Stage four breast cancer. Then, we had two terrifying and painful years before I laid her to rest up on the mountain beside my grandmother and grandfather.
That was eleven years ago this past May.
It took me several years before I could even ask someone to dinner. As the years have passed, it’s gotten easier, but I’ve never had a relationship that lasted more than a few months before it fizzled out. Not because I refuse to give my heart to another woman—Heather wouldn’t have wanted me to grieve forever—but because I just haven’t run across anyone who makes my heart skip the way she did. Once you’ve had that kind of spark with another human, you know when it’s missing with someone else.
“I’m serious,” Mom insists.
“Taeli and Leona haven’t had the best relationship since she moved away, and she is hoping that this time together will give them a chance to mend fences. With her beloved husband, Bernard, passing away suddenly, and Gene running off, this will be good for her. She’s my friend, and I want this for her. So, if that means each of us makes an effort to help Taeli and her son acclimate into the community, then that’s what we will do,” she commands.
We all love Leona. She and Mom are very close, and my brothers and I treat her like a second mother. One or more of us are at her home almost daily, taking care of things she needs done around the farm or being fed until we have to roll back down the mountain. She’s a funny, lovable, and quirky woman, and we all get a kick out of spending time with her.
“I promise to try and make them feel exceptionally welcome,” I assure her.
Her eyes brighten. “Thank you.”
Once Pop and I take a look at the damage, we conclude the patch will work for now and set to start draining the pool. Some of the kids look on in despair as Pop hangs the Closed sign on the entry gate, so he takes my truck and runs to the hardware store to buy a dozen inflatable pools and several water sprinklers to attach to hoses and run through the grassy area beside the playground.
When he returns and sets everything up, he decides to stay and hang out with the families while I take off to Leona’s. As I pull out of the site, an ice cream truck pulls in. I look in the rearview mirror and see Pop hand the man a wad of cash as all the kids stand around his feet, waiting for their treats.
He’s a sucker for those tiny humans.
I make my way up the mountain and arrive just as my crew is loading up the van with their tools.
“Hey, boss,” John says as I park.
“How did it go?” I ask as I exit and meet them in the driveway.
“It should be up and running. We reworked the electrical box and added a kill switch that will turn off the entire breaker, and we wired the generator straight to the box. That way, she can flip one switch to shut off the entire box and then hit the button on this remote to start the generator up. Once power is restored, all she has to do is turn off the generator and flip the box back on,” he explains.
“Thanks. That will be a lot easier for her. Are you guys heading out to lunch?”
“Yeah, Brian is filling the generator with gasoline now, and I stored an extra tank in the barn,” he says.
“Lunch is on me today. Use your company card to pay for it,” I say.
“Thanks, boss. See you back at the shop,” he says as he hands the remote off to me.
I go in search of Leona to teach her how to work everything. I walk around the back of the house and pass Brian as he makes his way to the van. I inspect the work, and it looks great. The equipment fits nicely on the concrete pad, and the guys extended the overhang, which shelters the heating and air units to protect them from snow and ice, to cover the generator as well.
Leona emerges onto the back deck and calls to me.
“Graham, it looks good, doesn’t it?” she says, pleased with the job.
“It does. If you have a minute, I’ll show you how it works.”
She descends the new steps with a guardrail my brothers Weston and Morris installed last week to make it safer for her to walk down to the breaker box during a storm.
I show her the new kill switch and how to operate the remote control. She is thrilled with the setup.
“I feel so high-tech,” she declares.
Leona Tilson is an easy woman to please.
“I’m glad you like it. I’ll definitely make life a bit simpler for you this winter.”
“Thank you, Graham. Come on in for a glass of lemonade,” she requests.
“It is lunchtime,” I say as I follow her inside.
“Perfect timing. I just took a chicken casserole out of the oven,” she calls over her shoulder.
“My favorite,” I tell her, which is something she already knows.
