Mind Games

“The house needs some work,” Rem observed. “I’ll see if I can get Billy Joe to give me a hand, see if we can fix it up some for her.”

He put an arm around Thea’s shoulder. “Miss Leona always has cookies and sweet tea.”

“The barn needs some help, too, and that shed’s not going to stand through the next good storm until it’s shored up.”

“We’ll see what we can do. But look at the land, Thea.”

“I’m looking,” she murmured. The way it climbed and rolled, the summer green of it.

And already knew her answer.

“We’d have to decide my five acres and yours.”

“I knew it! You get dibs on this one because it’ll matter more to you. And I’ve got years to decide how to use mine. We’re going to be landowners. Ain’t that a kick in the ass?”

It was, and brought it back to her how much things could change, and just how fast.

“Let’s go tell her.”

“Now?”

“Now’s good.” Before she could object, Rem started back toward the house with its sagging porch. She hurried to catch up as he knocked.

The woman who answered gave them one long look out of faded green eyes. Then smiled. “Goodness, girl, aren’t you the image of your granny! I knew her since she was barely higher than my knee. And look how tall you got, boy. You come by to cut my grass?”

“I can sure do that for you, Miss Leona.”

“It could use it, and you always did a fine job. Come in, come in. Just brush that cat out of the way and sit in the parlor here. I’ve got shortbread cookies and sweet tea.”

“I’ll help you with that, Miss Leona.”

“No, no.” She waved Thea into a parlor with an aged brick fireplace, a sofa covered with white daisies and red poppies. Next to one of the two wingback chairs sat a knitting basket.

“You sit now. I’m pleased to have some company.”

So they sat, and eventually ate shortbread cookies and did the expected visiting chat.

Rem launched the ball.

“Miss Leona, Grammie told us you’re thinking about selling off some land.”

“Made up my mind to. I can’t keep it up, and hate seeing it fallow. My grandson says I should sell the lot, move into a retirement place up north in Philadelphia where he is. That ain’t never happening.”

She waved a gnarled finger, then sipped at her tea with a hand with the slightest tremor.

Eighty-six now, Thea thought. Not nearing her eighties, but more than halfway through them.

“I came to this house as a bride, gave birth to my children here, raised them up. Me and George, we worked this land together, lived our lives here. I intend to end mine here when the good Lord calls me home.”

“We’d like to buy the land you want to sell, Thea and I.”

“Is that a fact?” Smiling again, and that smile reached right into those faded eyes, she set her glass on a needlepoint coaster. “That’s welcome news. I’d sure welcome having some young neighbors. It’s the land,” she said, “not the money. Though I expect a fair deal for it. My son sends me a check monthly. And more, my great-grandson, why, he’s taken over all my bills.”

Sipping tea, she shook her head over it.

“Won’t hear any guff about it from me. He’s a good boy. He visits when he can, and doesn’t he fly me all the way up there every Christmas so’s I stay in his big, pretty house, where he treats me like a queen? It’s not the money, but I’ve got my mind set that land won’t keep sitting there pining.”

“If it’s all right with you, I can put a contract together. You can have your lawyer look it over.”