“I said you were right.” I can admit it. I’m not one of those people who has to choke it out because humble pie tastes bitter. Humble pie can actually be quite amenable when one gets used to the base flavors. “I can admit when I’m wrong.”
“Can you? That’s a great trait to have.” Though it sounds like it, Becki’s not mocking me. She’s too kind for that.
“I…yes. I can. You were right. You don’t have the funds to hire anyone.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“How do you pay yourself?”
“I did say I would tell you that,” she says as she strokes the donkey’s side. “You don’t mind hearing about this, do you, Harold?”
The donkey raises his head and makes a grunt at the sound of his name. I guess that’s a no? Maybe? It must be a no because Becki starts telling me.
“I mentioned I do some blogging, so I take that money as a small salary. I put it in a bank account for my expenses, like groceries and such. Everything else, you already know, is paid. The house is paid off, and my parents bought me that car for my sixteenth birthday, so it’s also paid for. Your grandfather actually paid off the truck and trailer a couple of years ago with his donations. Likewise, the insurance for the farm and the bills are also paid through donations. My parents pay for the car insurance because, uh…I’m a spoiled only child. All I really have to buy for myself is food, and I grow most of it. Oh, and a few personal items, but that isn’t much either.”
“But don’t you want things?”
“Like what?” Becki focuses hard on me like I just suggested that she might want a ride to Mars one day. Well, because it would be cool to go to Mars.
“Like…like new things? New furniture? A new TV? Clothes? Décor? I don’t know. What other people usually buy.”
“Nope, I don’t need any of that. I have enough clothes, and whatever else I need, I can always thrift for cheap. Anyway, I like the furniture in the house. It holds a lot of memories for me, plus it would get wrecked soon enough by cats scratching it and dogs laying on it. Besides, I think getting it out of the house would involve a chainsaw as it’s so big and old and heavy. As for the house, it’s just fine with me. I like the old, ratty farmhouse look. I know you probably see it as a giant dump hole, but for me, it’s home.”
“It’s not a dump hole.”
Becki giggles like it’s amusing. “I know you think I’m a messy slob.”
She’s looking at me so directly that I know she knows what I was thinking. Again. She might really be a fairy. Can fairies read minds? Her blue eyes are kind of glowing like they’re not entirely human. I swallow thickly and resist the urge to laugh at myself for getting carried away for a minute there. Of course she’s just human. Unless she’s a saint because she really might be a saint—look at what she’s doing here.
“No, I don’t. I—I thought maybe the house was a little bit of a mess, but I realize you’re super busy, so I cleaned it up a bit.”
“You did? Seriously?”
“I am capable of picking up a few things and washing a couple of dishes.”
“Are you? That’s nice. I’m really glad. Thank you.” From anyone else, it would be trite and condescending, but not from Becki.
“I was thinking that…you know…since I’m here for six months, and you can’t afford to hire anyone, and this is what my grandfather wanted…that I’d save the mornings for work with my company. I’ll get up early and do it and compact it all into those hours, and then in the afternoons and evenings, I could help you out here.”
Becki’s smile is so radiant that it’s like staring straight into the face of something really bright. What’s really bright? Well, probably not me at the moment because I can’t think of a single thing. All I can think about is how happy Becki looks and how beautiful it makes her, even though, as usual, she has some kind of random dirt smeared over her forehead.
“I’m not sure I’d be any good at anything, but if you’d like the help, I promise to give it. And I promise to climb all fences.”
Becki throws back her head and laughs. She’s so gracious and accepting, and it’s the happiest sound in the world. I wish I could catch her laugh, record it, and listen to it over and over, even though it wouldn’t be the same. “We can start tomorrow afternoon. I’d be glad for the help.”
She does look glad, relieved, and radiant again, like the sun. Yeah, the sun because that’s what’s bright. I don’t think I’ve ever used the word gobsmacked in my entire life, but here we go because I’m using it again.