Page 79 of Strike Zone

“Today we’ll work on cleaning out the barn on the south side,” I overhear Ford say as I reach the bottom step. The south barn hasn’t been used in years. It sits between two vacant fields we haven’t had the money to put to good use yet.

“Wren’s right. If we sell what we don’t need, we can use that money to fix the barn and prep the fields for a summer and fall harvest,” Willow says.

“We can easily clear out the whole front field by the main road for parking,” Colt says.

“Parking for what?” I ask, joining my family around the table. Eyes dart around the room silently discussing what to tell me and gauging my reaction.

“Opening up the farm to the public,” Mom says.

“Is that something we can do? I thought the plan was to wait until we had more money to invest,” I say.

“It was the plan before because it seemed impossible to do it without funding,” Ford says.

“And now?” I question.

“Now, thanks to Wren, we have a solid plan. Look at this.” Colt passes me a legal pad with the Newhouse Knight logo at the top. I chuckle to myself. Only she would bring office supplies with her on spring break.

The legal pad is now a step by step guide detailing what we need to do in order to open up the farm for a summer flower picking season. She’s researched everything from what flowers to grow and when to plant. How much to charge and even calculated potential revenue.

“Here is the business plan for the summer.” Willow hands me another notepad. How did Wren put all of this together in one night? “It’s amazing, right?”

I nod. It is. Wren is amazing. She’s thought of everything.

“Willow and I will work with Wren this week getting the marketing set up while y’all clean out and fix up the old barn. We need to either sell the junk or take it to the dump,” Mom says. Dad mumbles something about there not being any junk in the barn.

“Then we can start working the fields here,” Mason points to one of the open fields on the blueprint, “and here for planting pumpkins in July.”

“Do you think we can pull it off?” I ask. It’s something we’ve talked about doing multiple times. We know that opening up the farm and charging an entrance fee will be a good way to get revenue, but the logistics always felt overwhelming to figure out.

Knowing how to farm and knowing how to run a business are two different things, especially when your back is up against the wall financially.

“I do. We’ll start small. I think that was our problem. We wanted to do everything at once. We can begin with the front fields. Give people driving by something to look at. Then every season we can vote and determine what project is next.” Ford seems confident.

“What about the debt? The foreclosure threats on the land?” I ask.

“Your dad and I are going to talk to the bank. Wren thinks if we show them the business plan they may be willing to work with us knowing money will start coming in soon. If not, we can get an investor.”

Me. I’ll be the investor. And while I’m playing baseball, everyone I love will be here building our legacy without me. I hate it, but it’s the only way.

“We should get started on the barn. Did you want to ride out with us, Dad? Tell us what you want to sell and keep?” Colt asks.

“Can I ride in the Gator again?”

“No. You got one over on the new girl. It won’t work again,” Ford says.

“We’ll see about that,” Dad mutters.

“Mama, can you have Lenny show Wren the chickens and how to get eggs when she gets up from her nap?” I didn’t take her inside the coop yesterday. The goats were enough for one day.

“Sure, honey.” Mom gives me a hug. “I really like her,” she whispers in my ear. I like her too, Mama. I like her a whole hell of a lot.

“How did we manage to accumulate all of this crap?” Mason asks.

We’ve been clearing out the barn for at least two hours and it looks like we haven’t even made a dent. This old barn is one of the original buildings on the land. It’s four thousand square feet of rust and garbage.

“This stuff is not junk. They’re antiques. Call up one of those pickers. They’ll tell you the same thing,” Dad says.

“It’s junk, Dad. We should be taking this stuff straight to the dump.” Colt walks out with another load of scrap metal.

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