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Sure, I’ll miss my family and friends, but I’m convinced I’ll miss my trash man even more.
5
The Christianson’s Orchard and Farm Festival was Shannon’s brainchild. Although she has practically nothing to do with the farm, she helps out when she’s around in the summer, and my grandparents latched on to the idea. Our orchard is part of the historical landscape of Meriden and has been in the family for almost two centuries. We agreed it deserves to be celebrated—and what a fun way to kick off the summer.
Deep down, everyone is slightly worried the orchard’s legacy will end because I’m leaving. Always the educator, Shannon came up with the festival as a way of reminding us of the history and importance of the orchard. Given the age of both my grandparents, we agree to help with everything that’s needed, and they aren’t afraid to take advantage of this. When Shannon shared her vision for this event, my grandparents ran with it. They created list after list, and then assigned task after task to me. Thankfully, most of our farmhands have worked for the family for decades, so we can count on them. On top of planting, monitoring, weeding, and harvesting, I’ve had to add event planning and delegation to my list of responsibilities.
Although it’s a race to the finish, everybody at Christianson’s is celebrating the success of getting the store and farm ready for our very first festival.
“Jackson, I put the handbaskets next to the barn and cleaned the carts for checkout near the register. Greg dropped off the cider doughnuts and coffee. They left those with your grandmother.”
“Thanks, Lucas. Can you ask Brynn to see if Sylvia needs help with the doughnuts and setting up the milk and sugar?” We are lucky to have snagged Brynn for the summer. She just finished her freshman year at Plymouth State. Greg met her one day at the country store and hired her. Bringing her over to the orchard for the summer was the best decision we’ve made in a while. My grandmother loves her, she’s a quick learner, and she has endless energy.
“Yeah, no problem. I’m going to set up the cornhole games on the lawn and put the cardboard apples on those two maple trees. Families with little kids will have fun doing that. It’ll keep them busy for a little while, anyway.”
“I agree. Are you doing that slingshot squash thing you mentioned?”
“Don’t worry! I set it up on the other side of the barn. I figure we don’t want squash being slung into the customers, so it’s set farther away and the slingshots will face the woods.”
“Smart thinking. Shannon told me she planned on being around this area if anyone needs anything. Last night, I hooked the hay wagon to the older tractor, so it’s ready to pull throughout the orchard. With the weather being so nice, we should expect a sizable crowd.”
Lucas hoists the massive wooden cornhole games under his arms, making them look light as paper. “Don’t sweat it, Jackson. We have everything covered. It’ll come together. We thought of everything we could.”
He’s right. Shannon had the vision, and the community will love it.
Each year we have regulars who visit the orchard. Some live a street away, while others make it a point to drive a hundred miles to get here. My family is always grateful for the support, even more so this year because the future of our farm is a little unstable.
With an hour to spare, my grandparents, along with the staff, stand under the barn overhang, admiring the orchard. Everything looks fantastic. The scent of apple doughnuts and freshly brewed coffee fills the air. Looking at my grandparents’ faces, seeing their arms linked, holding each other tight as they take in the scene makes everything worthwhile.
My grandparents took ownership of the orchard over seventy years ago, five years after their marriage, after the passing of Grandpa Earl’s parents. Their story is one for the ages. They lived and were separated through hard times and war, but their love for each other is simply too strong to be broken, their bond beyond admirable. Even after almost eighty years, they’re still crazy in love. I hope to find my soulmate someday.
“Are you going to clean yourself up a little? Even though you don’t plan on sticking around forever, the least you could do is shower,” Shannon says, walking closer to me.
I peek at my watch and sigh—twenty minutes until people arrive. Glancing at my ever-bossy sister, I salute and head to the house.
My grandparents’ white farmhouse, built over two hundred and fifty years ago, sits in front of the barn. Having been through its share of renovations and upgrades, no one would ever mistake it for a new build, but it certainly looks years younger than its true age. Even though I only lived here briefly after my parents moved to New York, my grandparents still maintain my bedroom as if I might return one day. The same full-size bed sits up against the left-hand wall with my red buffalo-plaid comforter. My six-drawer bureau rests along the back wall, storing a few clothes perfect for an event such as today.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I unlace my work boots, pull my sweaty T-shirt over my head, and throw it in the corner, along with my jeans and boxer briefs. I hop into the shower and quickly shave, not a nick in sight. I pull jeans from the bureau and the blue Mt. Washington T-shirt my grandmother gave me. It’s snug, but she’ll smile seeing me wear it. Work boots back on, I head out the door.
Shannon appears just as I make my way out the back of the house, ready to give me the rundown of the day’s events. “I moved the rocking chairs from the porch and put them under the awning by the barn for Grandma and Grandpa. They won’t admit it, but they are exhausted. The nonstop talk and prep for this event have wiped them out. I told the staff to come to us if they need anything. I’ll keep checking on them, and you just oversee the farm area. Everything is taken care of. I want them to enjoy the day and be surrounded by love.”
“I agree. Besides, everything is under control. I want you to enjoy this day too. The summer is your vacation time, remember.”
“I will, but honestly, planning this has been the best thing for me. It has taken my mind off everything. Being down in the dumps all summer is pathetic. I’ve been effective and useful, and Grandma and Grandpa are proud to see everyone come together. I hope we get a good turnout.”
“You’ll be okay, Shan. You’re through the worst of it. Everyone says there’s a grieving process throughout divorce, and hopefully you won’t run into Richard around town anytime soon. Before long, you’ll be out meeting new people … heck, anything could happen this summer.”
“Hey, don’t put me out in the social scene just yet. I’m not officially single. He still needs to sign the papers. Let’s just enjoy what we’ve done here.”
She makes her way to the barn, and I go check on my grandparents. Just as Shannon hoped, they’re rocking away, enjoying some apple cider as cars and trucks pull into the lot. As soon as I’m close enough to my grandmother, I see a smile form on her face, lighting up as she spots me wearing the gifted T-shirt.
I bend between them. “You should be very proud of this place. People love it here, and today is going to be perfect. I’ll be over on the tractor, but if you need anything, Shannon is in the barn and everyone else is out working too. Just ask. I’ll come by soon. OK?”
“Don’t you give us a second thought, dear. We’ll be right here, rocking away. These doughnuts are fantastic. Who made them?”
“Pretty sure Greg did. I’ll tell him.”
My grandpa sets his cider on the barrel next to his rocker and drops his hand onto my knee while his other hand holds Grandma’s. “Things are just as they should be, Jackson. We are so proud of this place and everything you’ve done to help us along. We are going to enjoy the day. Don’t worry about us.”
