by Natalie Ann
“So it’s over with? Just like that. No time to have a final season? No time to try to find the money?”
This couldn’t be happening. She had high hopes for the haunted house this year. She knew she shouldn’t be having selfish thoughts like that, but it was the first thing that popped into her head. It was something she’d started with her grandfather and she held that close to her chest. Something she looked forward to every year.
“This will be our last season. The guy who approached me is kind enough to let us stay on as the owners until the end of the year because he wants to work alongside of us. He wants to learn the ins and outs of the farm.”
“So it’s someone who doesn’t even know anything about running a farm or an orchard?” That’s not a way to keep the farm alive!
“He’s a contractor. He wants the land and the house and the bakery. The orchard is a bonus, but he promised he’d keep the integrity of the business. He seemed genuine.”
Ali started to sniffle. “But it’s your bakery. What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to retire. I told you, I’m tired. I’ll find some nice part-time job if I need to, or maybe I can stay on here part-time in the bakery. We haven’t gotten that far yet. But I’ll make an extremely nice profit on the sale of the farm and it will give me a lot of breathing room to make those decisions.”
“There is no talking you out of this?”
“No. My mind is made up. This is our last hoorah. Let’s make the best of it.”
Ali moved toward her mother’s outstretched hand and sat next to her on the chair.
“It’s what Grandpa would want. He wouldn’t be happy to see it the way it is right now, you know that. I can’t do it anymore.”
She looked at her mother’s tired eyes and knew she was right, but her heart was just breaking. “I understand. I just need time to adjust.”
“You’ve got your own life and career, Ali. It’s time to make peace with this. It was never going to be your life and you know it. You just wanted to hold onto it because it was Grandpa’s. I understand, but we can’t always hold onto something just because we want to.”
She knew, but a part of her was having a hard time letting go.
Wanted to Explore
Liam Sullivan pulled into a house he’d just flipped and had planned to put on the market. Instead, his mother made a last minute decision to move back to the area, making him rethink that decision.
He and his parents moved here from Michigan when he was fourteen, following his father’s job. Though his father still had to commute to Saratoga for work, he’d fallen in love with the Lake George area and wanted a house on the lake.
After Liam finished college, his father was transferred out of state again, but at that point, Liam liked the area and decided to stay, making a name for himself as a contractor and a strong businessman people respected.
Soon repairs and additions turned to flips and investments. Every year his business grew and evolved and branched out to the point where he was doing less hands-on work and more supervising and making deals. He’d always known he wanted to be his own boss, but even he never thought he’d be sitting this pretty at thirty-two years old.
“Mom,” he said, opening the door. His mother was going to live here for the time being until everything else fell into place. He could have had her staying at his house on the lake, but he was at a point in his life that he didn’t want his mother underfoot.
“In the kitchen, Liam.”
He smelled something good. Maybe he should reconsider having her move in just for the food alone. “What are you making?”
“Shrimp Scampi.”
He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. He’d missed his parents when they moved away seven years ago, but made the time to go visit several times a year. They often came back to see him too.
Unfortunately, last year his father died suddenly of a massive heart attack. His mother was at loose ends. The two of them made the decision together that she’d come here since he wasn’t about to walk away from his business. There was no family for his mother in California, and no long-standing career keeping her there. She’d always been a housewife and she pretty much only had him to watch out for her now.
“No dessert?” he asked her.
“You know there is always dessert. Have a seat, Liam. You look like you did on Christmas morning when you were hoping to get that brand new bike left by Santa under the tree.”
He smiled at her, remembering that Christmas morning well. “This is even better news.”
“Well, what is it?” she asked.
“Remember Granny’s Orchard?”
“How could I forget? You dragged me to that haunted house every single year and caused me to have nightmares for weeks after.”
He loved that haunted house, but more so, he just loved that farm.
They’d moved here right before school started and he hadn’t known a soul. Once they were settled, his mother took him apple picking. Something they’d done together his entire life, and being fourteen didn’t mean he’d outgrown it. She’d been trying so hard to keep his life normal, but it had been the fifth move for them in fourteen years.
It wasn’t only that his mother tried to keep up traditions with him, it was the place itself.
He’d always loved the outdoors and the land just beckoned him. He didn’t want to just climb a tree and pick apples, he wanted to explore. He wanted to sit in a tree and look out over the land. Go into the bakery and store whenever he was hungry, then go back out and walk everywhere to see the pumpkins and raspberries, strawberries and vegetables. He was betting it was a pretty awesome place year-round on the land, but he’d really only walked it in the summer and fall.
To some, it might sound like silly memories, but to a new kid in town, he held onto it and couldn’t let go anymore than a dog would release his favorite ball. A place he felt at peace, and one he dragged his mother to often, even his father, whether it was to buy sweets and knickknacks in the store, or fruits and vegetables when they were available. He ate more vegetables than he wanted just for the excuse of a visit.
“I’m going to buy it.”
“What?” his mother asked, pulling a chair out and sitting down.
He grabbed the chair next to her and finally sat. “I’m buying it for you. You can have your own bakery now like you always wanted, with no worries about moving again.”
His mother’s eyes glistened, then she laughed. “Liam, that is just nuts. You can’t buy me a farm so I’ve got a bakery.”
“I can and I am. You’ve always wanted one; you even said for years how much you loved that little store. Why not have what you want in a place that is familiar to us both?”
“That’s true, but to own it. I don’t know the first thing about running my own business.”
“You can learn then.”
It would give his mother a much-needed purpose in her life. So many years of being a housewife and taking care of his father left too much time on her hands—and probably her mind—now. This would be a challenge and something she’d enjoy.
“I want to say you’re crazy again, but I’m just too excited. Did you really buy it?”
“Not officially. I went out to the farm this morning to get some muffins. I noticed that it’s falling down and in need of repair. Anthony Michaels, who owned and ran it, died five years ago and it was left to his daughter, Belinda Rogers. Remember her? She’s the one you always talked to in the bakery?”
“I remember her now. Sweet lady. Are you saying she’s run it on her own for years?”
“She has and it shows. We got to talking and she said it’s getting away from her. She knows I’m a contractor and she approached me on some repairs. One thing led to another and I made her a fair market value offer. She seemed shocked, and then agreed.”
“But nothing binding has been done yet?” his mother asked, looking almost upset now.
“I don’t believe she’ll go back on her wor
d. She said she was going to tell her daughter tonight, but that it was solely her decision and she’d rather see it run the way it used to be. I get the feeling her daughter may protest, but she assured me multiple times that the farm was only in her name.”
“So you’re buying a farm to give me a bakery? Please don’t tell me I’ve got to run the farm too,” his mother asked, horrified.
He laughed. “Of course not. I don’t even have time for it. I’m going to fix the barn and the house up and probably rent the house out at some point. Maybe I’ll find someone who can run the farm and housing can be part of their salary.”
“I don’t know where you come up with these ideas, but your excitement is rubbing off. When do we start?”
He hadn’t seen his mother this happy in a long time. Now he knew he made the right decision.
“I’m going to talk to my lawyer on Monday and Belinda gave me the name of hers. No need to go through any realtors at this point. We’ll work out the details, but I told Belinda that I’d let them stay on until the end of the year as it’s their busy time and they can teach me the ropes.”
He turned his head when he smelled smoke, his mother jumping up. “Oh dear, I’ve ruined dinner. Good thing I only have to bake on the farm or I’d be out of business in a week.”
He laughed and walked over to take the pan out of her hands and dumped it in the garbage. “Why don’t I take you out to dinner and we can celebrate.”
“I’ll let you do that. Liam,” she said, pausing.
“What?”
“You’re so much like your father it breaks my heart at times.”
“Why does that break your heart?”
“Because I just miss him. But I look at you and I see what you’re trying to do and I know that we raised you right. That your father is looking down on us and knowing that I’ll be taken care of.”
“Always, Mom. I did this for you as much as I did it for me.”
Down the Rabbit Hole
“Ali.”
Ali blinked her eyes open when she’d heard her name called. She looked around her room and all she saw was darkness, so she shut her eyes again, then started to drift back off to sleep.
“Ali, wake up.”
She sat straight up in bed. This time the words were louder and stronger.
She recognized that voice. My grandfather.
But her grandfather had been gone for five years, so she had to be dreaming. It had to be the news that her mother told her tonight and the fact she fell asleep crying, thinking that she’d lose all those memories of her grandfather when the farm was sold.
Her mother was right—Ali had her own life now. She’d always wanted to teach and just help out on the farm when she could. She’d never wanted it like her mother did.
Maybe it was because deep down she saw her grandmother die young on the farm, then watched her father leave her mother because he’d said it ate up too much of her mother’s time.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, the years started to show on her grandfather faster than they should have. Even on her mother. She didn’t want to follow that path, so she decided to go into teaching—a career that would give her the summers and early nights to help out on the farm, but not make her reliant on it for her sole income.
She lay back down again, only to hear creaking in her room. This time she sat up and turned the light on. “Who’s there?”
Laughter this time, like jolly St. Nick. Just like her grandfather’s. She was losing her mind. Who would have thought grief would cause that?
“You know who it is,” her grandfather said loud and clear.
She turned her head, then saw him standing in the doorway to her closet. What the heck? “You’re not here. I’m dreaming.”
“If it makes you feel better to think that, go right ahead.”
She wanted to get up and try to touch him, see if he was real, but that would be further down the rabbit hole than she was willing to admit she’d fallen.
“You’re not here,” she said again. “I’m dreaming you and now I’m going back to sleep.”
She reached for the light switch and turned it off. She was just falling back to sleep when she heard whispered words close to her ear. “I’ll be back, Ali. I’ll never forget about you and I know you’ll always remember me.”
If she felt what might be a gentle kiss on her head, she wasn’t admitting it to anyone, but she yanked the covers up and created her own cocoon just the same.
The next morning, Ali dragged herself out of bed and downed two cups of coffee before she drove to the farm before seven. Her mother was in the bakery that would be opening in less than ten minutes. Cars were already starting to pull into the parking lot. By eight the orchard would be open for business for apple picking and hayrides, plus pumpkins, blueberries, and raspberries.
She walked in the back door of the bakery to see her mother filling trays of donuts. Warm fresh cinnamon sugar and glazed donuts were sold by the dozen all weekend long. Not to mention pies, tarts, and muffins. The cookies sold too, but this time of year, it was all about the donuts.
“Hi, Mom. Where do you need me?”
Her mother stopped and turned to look at her. “You look like you had a rough night.”
“I’ve had better,” Ali said, not even considering the thought of mentioning that she dreamed about her grandfather last night. She’d dreamed about him often in her life, but never like that. Never that vivid. Never actually feeling like he was in the room, nor did she ever remember him talking to her.
“I’m sorry if my news upset you yesterday,” her mother said, pulling her aside.
“It’s fine. I understand more than you think. It’s just...”
“I know. This is our life. Our world at times. But it can’t always be that way.”
Ali eyes started to water again. “I understand. I just need time, but I’ll be fine. We’ll make the best of these last few months.”
“Good. Put it out of your mind for now. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us. I’ll know more facts next week and we’ll take it one day at a time.”
Ali nodded her head. “I’m going to unlock the front door for you. Do you want me to man the counter for an hour?”
“That’d be great and allow me to get more donuts made. You know the drill, fill in where you see the need today.”
“I will,” she said, knowing this was the first of many last days to come.
***
Liam pulled into the pub right on the lake. He was in need of a beer. As much as he loved his mother, her excitement and planning were almost driving him insane.
He hadn’t even talked to his lawyer yet, but he was already ducking ideas like a nerd trying to protect his family jewels from the bully with a dodgeball in his hand on the playground. What had he gotten himself into?
“Hey, Liam,” Grant said. Grant Decker was the owner of the pub and had been since his father turned it over to him a couple of years ago. Grant was a few years older than him, but Liam had been coming here for years when he didn’t want a solo beer in the house.
“Grant,” he said, nodding. “Give me the stout you’ve got on tap.”
“Coming right up. How’s business going?” Grant asked.
A waitress came over and called out three drinks to Grant, while two other bartenders were filling orders at the other end of the bar. Saturday night was hopping. “Always good. Looks like the same could be said for you.”
“The spring, summer, and fall bring the people out. Come winter it will die down,” Grant said.
“Except for the snowmobilers.”
Lake George was a good-sized tourist town that drew people in during the spring, summer, and fall seasons. Winter, not so much. That was the quiet time.
For Liam, he was busy all year round, but the multiple resort properties he owned were booked up solid eight out of twelve months straight. Even the other four months of colder weather he didn’t have too many open nights, but they didn’t book up as quickly.<
br />
“Can I get you a menu or are you good?” Grant asked.
“I’m good for now.”
Grant nodded and moved away. On slower nights or times of the year, he and Grant would chat about business and the town, but not tonight.
He felt a jostle at his arm, almost causing him to spill his beer, when he turned and saw her. The woman who landed on her butt in front of him just yesterday. Talk about making a good decision to come out for a drink tonight.
He’d gone to bed last night after he’d left his mother’s house and wanted to kick himself for not asking this woman her name. He could have sworn she wanted him to—she stood there staring at him long enough—but he’d been in a hurry and she looked flustered, so he’d moved on.
He wouldn’t blow his chance again. “Hello there,” he said to her. “You must like knocking into me.”
She turned her head quickly as if she hadn’t realized she’d bumped into him getting to the bar for a drink. The shock, and then smile on her face was enough to warm him right up and let him know the night might turn out promising.
“Hi,” she said. “I swear you just keep putting yourself in my way rather than me being a total klutz.”
He laughed and shifted over, then stood up. “Have a seat.”
“No, you can stay. I’ll just wait until a chair opens up.” She was on the small side, and he liked that about a woman. Brown hair pulled back away from her face, light brown eyes with a sprinkling of makeup on. Just his style.
“Or, this gentlemen to my right can give up his seat for the lady since he’s waiting for a table that just opened up over there anyway.” The guy looked at Liam and then winked.
“Sure,” the younger man said. “Anything to help a bro out.”
“See how easy that is?” Liam said.
