Page 39 of A Fowl Match

“Nice to see you again, Mr. Rhett,” I say.

“We’ve been over this. Please call me George. Or better yet, Grandpa. Whatever you prefer.”

They are really trying hard to bring me into the family and I can’t complain. Being alone for these past two years has been really hard on me. Darcy kept me company for so many years after I lost my parents, always making sure I had a warm meal and time to spend with her each day. She was like a stunning rainbow after a storm. The sunshine after rain, bringing so much warmth and hope into my life. She cared for me when I didn’t want to do it for myself anymore. I had no motivation, no will to continue. She pushed me to live my life. To find a small piece of something to look forward to every day.

“Don’t let anything steal your joy,” was what she’d always say. She was right. Each day got a little bit easier with the grief I held. Then she moved into the retirement home, and it felt like myworld was ending all over again. Even though I still visit, it's not the same as living with her.

It feels surreal to be sitting at a dinner table within a family setting. “Dig in,” Gram says. “You all need to put some more meat on your bones.”

I giggle. Dustin makes eyes at her again and I can tell he’s uncomfortable. It looks like he's afraid they may do something to embarrass him. I wish I could tell him there’s nothing they could do or say to ruin this dinner. I’m just grateful to be within their company.

We fill our plates with helpings of chicken and dumplings. It’s the most delicious meal I have ever eaten. The conversations are mostly between George and Dustin. They’ve been discussing the work they have planned for tomorrow: checking fences, putting out some hay for the cows, and the prospect of breeding more goats for more milk. A lot of the conversation I have a hard time following. I nod in agreement at all the right times and eat the yummy grub.

“Violet, how are you and Dustin doing in the competitions? Has he been treating you right?” Gram asks me, turning the conversation.

Dustin's hand slightly grazes mine under the table and the connection startles me with a fuzzy feeling, sending electric bolts through my tingling fingers. I say, “They’ve been—eventful? We fell in a bunch of mud during the treasure hunt. Dustin coaxed a chicken over the finish line to get first place on the first week by complimenting her.” I chuckle. “He’s been treating me well. I have no complaints. Quite the gentleman saving me from falling multiple times and constantly helping me back up from my clumsiness. You raised him right.”

“That’s good to hear. You promise to let me know if he gets out of line?”

“Yes ma'am,” I say.

“Great, I’ll grab the apple pie. George, can you help me with the serving plates?” They both scurry off into the kitchen.

“Thanks for that. I wouldn’t have gotten dessert for a month if you would have said one bad thing about me. I know I was a little grumpy with you at first.”

“There isn’t really anything I can say that’s bad.” In all honesty he’s been nothing but kind to me since we’ve become friends. It may be true that I thought he was rude when we first met. But today I saw another side of him. A softer one that he hides from the outside world. He’s saved me from having a miserable, lonely day spent grieving. He turned it around and now I can say today was the first time since the accident that I have been truly happy on the anniversary. And I think my parents are smiling as they watch me really start to live again.

We finished up dessert, and the pie was just as good as the one Dustin shared with me a week ago. I insisted on helping with the dishes. Dustin scurried off scratching his nose—it’s part of the signal we came up with. While his grandpa sits in the living room flicking through the channels, my job is to keep them both occupied for the next thirty or so minutes so that he can set up the antenna on the roof.

This better work. Or else I am never going to live this down.

I’m drying the dishes as Gram scrubs them in the sink. She hands me a plate to dry. I swipe a towel across the smooth surface as we continue to talk.

“Thank you,” she says over the running water.

“What for?”

“For bringing the old Dustin back again. I haven’t seen him this happy for a long time.”

“I didn’t do anything.” At least I don’t think I did.

“You did do something. Even if you don’t realize it. There’s something different about him. He looks so happy. I don’t think I’ve seen him truly smile like this in years. Every year when wecame to see him for the holidays, he was a shell of himself.” She hands me another plate. “Dustin used to come here every summer to help on the farm. He would spend every day working on things with George. Building that A-frame he's living in now, bailing hay, learning how to take care of the animals. But as soon as he had to go back home, he would change, his smile would fade. I think this place gives him hope for his future. I think you give him hope. He won’t ever admit this, but he secretly loves it here.”

The prospect of Dustin staying here warms my heart. I don’t want him to leave.

I smile at Gram. “I think so too.”

A drilling sound comes from the roof, and I know it’s my cue. I really hate to do this, especially to these beautiful ceramic plates. If these were passed down from generations Dustin is going to be sorry, but it was the only way we could distract them from what he was doing.

“What was that?” His grandpa yells from the living room.

I toss the plate when she isn’t looking and it shatters into a million pieces. “I’m so sorry!”

This plan is actually genius. With how clumsy I am all of the time, it could be believable that I would break something.

“It’s okay honey it’s just a plate, no harm done. Let me help you clean that up.”

We clean up the pieces and toss them into the trash. I look up to the kitchen window and a cord is swinging back and forth.

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