CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Sadie is excited about the idea of finally meeting all of my animals. On the short plane ride to central Maine, she insists that I list all of them by name, over and over, until she has them memorized. By the time we reach our destination, I’m sick and tired of the poor creatures in my care at Glenhollow Farms.
“And I’m going to take Bessie the baby goat, and I’m going to comb her hair with my pink brush.” She’s looking out the window as the landscape flies by. The only one available at the farm to pick us up was Smitty, supposedly. I try not to glare at the back of his head. He is so nosy. I know very well Harold was there, and he could’ve driven out to the airport to get us, but Smitty inserted himself into the situation, and now here he is sitting in the pickup truck, smiling his stupid head off as he chats with Sam. I’m in the small backseat with Sadie.
“How many brushes do you have?” Sadie asks, pulling me out of my mean thoughts about Smitty.
“For animals or paint?”
“Animals.”
“I have lots and lots of them. I don’t think I’ve ever counted. But you could do that if you want. You can count all of them for me.”
“I’m very good at counting. Ask my daddy.” She pauses and then shouts, “Daddy! Dad, Dad, Dad!”
Sam turns around with exaggerated patience. “Is someone calling me back there?”
“Tell Emerald how good I can count.”
Sam glances at me, twisting his head halfway around to do it. “She’s the best. She’s the best counter ever. In the whole wide world. No one counts better than Sadie. You’ve never seen someone count like her. It’s incredible.” He winks at me.
Sadie smiles up at me. “Told ya.”
“I can’t wait to see you in action.” I smile encouragingly, imagining that I’ll have a brief reprieve before I actually have to experience her doing her counting thing, since my animal brushes are all in the barn that’s full of other junk.
I should have known better. The next thing I know, she’s counting trees. By the time we get to the farm she’s accounted for over a hundred. She’s missed some numbers on the way, but rather than point it out, I just go with the flow. It’s mesmerizing in a way, her voice droning on and on in a pattern like that. I’m almost asleep, but then the potholes in the driveway jar me out of my daze and wake me up.
There are a lot more people camped out around the house than there were when I left just a week ago. Has it only been a week? It seems like a lot longer. Harold comes down the front porch steps, smiling. The truck stops just in front of him, and Smitty puts it in park. He turns around and grins at me. “Home, sweet home; farm, sweet farm.”
I roll my eyes at his corniness. “Thanks for the lift.”
“Don’t mention it.” He winks and then chuckles as he faces the steering wheel again. Sam works on getting our bags from the truck bed while Sadie and I climb down.
Sadie and I go over to the front steps. She looks around, her eyes wide and her expression solemn.
“What’s the matter?” I ask.
“This place is really big.”
“Is it? I guess I never noticed.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because I grew up here and saw it all the time.”
She looks up at me. “It is big. It really is. Do I get to stay in there?” She points at the front door.
“Yes, you do. If you go inside and up the stairs, you’ll find a bedroom at the end of the hall that has a pink rose pillow on the bed. That can be your room, if you want.”
“Really?” She looks like I just offered to buy her a pony. She runs into the house, hooting and hollering.
Sam joins me on the stoop. “What did you just say to her?”
“I promise I did not just tell her I was going to buy her a pony.”
He laughs. “Thank you. Please don’t ever do that.”
“I told her which room she can sleep in.”
“You sure you don’t want us to pitch a tent out here?” He looks over his shoulder at the other campers.
“No, you can stay in the house. I’m sure there’s a free bedroom or two available.”
Sam takes Sadie’s and his stuff up the porch stairs, and I start to follow, but a hand on my arm stops me. I find Smitty standing there in his flannel shirt and beat-up jeans. I sigh. I’ve been rude to him, and although part of the reason he’s being so helpful is because he’s nosy, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s done me a lot of favors since I left, looking out for the animals and other visitors so I could go to New York.
“Thanks for everything, Smitty. For the ride and for watching over things.”
“Sure. No problem.” He takes his baseball hat off and scratches his head. “So . . . you here to stay?”
“Where else would I go? This is my home.” I walk to the top of the stairs, leaving him below.
“What about him? He staying too?”
“For a little while. Why?” I turn around to see his reaction.
He shrugs. “Just wondering.” He waves at me and walks off, putting his hat back on as he heads up the road.
“Where’re you going?” I call out after him.
“Help Rose at the clinic.”
“Would you tell her I’m here?” My earlier calls to her went unanswered. All we’ve been able to do since I flew out to LA and back is exchange voice messages. She’s busier than she’s ever been at the clinic, and my life hasn’t exactly been boring. I make a mental note to go down there later after Sam and Sadie are settled in to give her a hand. It’s been way too long since we’ve talked.
“Will do,” Smitty shouts.
I walk inside and take Sam by the hand.
“Where are we going?” he asks as I lead him to the stairs.
“To my bedroom.”
“Am I sharing with you?”
“It’s up to you,” I say as we mount the stairs. “You can share with me or Sadie.”
Sam leans in, taking me from behind in a warm hug, as he whispers in my ear, “Show me to your bed.”