Page 11 of One Sweet Day is Never Enough

Four

John Pederson, Seth’s father, sat across from Seth at the dinner table. “Are we all set for the festival this weekend? I meant to ask you earlier.”

“I think so.” Seth wiped a napkin to his face. “I’ve got a few things set up besides the usual—more carnival games, pony rides, and a pie-eating contest. Enough to make it worth the visit, I’d say.” The one-day festival usually saw almost a thousand visitors each year. Without as much U-Pick available, Seth was planning whatever he could to keep the public interested long enough to stay and spend a few precious dollars.

“Oh, that sounds good. We haven’t done that contest in years. And the carnival games are always a hit.”

Seth’s mother, Clara, swallowed a bite of her chicken casserole. “Ponies sound great, and I love the pie-eating contest. Good ideas, honey.”

Apparently, despite the fact that the farm wasn’t turning a profit lately, last year’s turnout had been great, and the numbers showed they’d made a good return on the U-Pick as well as on sales of merchandise and baked goods. Seth hoped they could repeat that this year. The festival was one of their biggest income-producing opportunities of the year.

Seth nodded. “Thanks. I looked at last year’s numbers. How bad do you think it’ll be this year with two thirds of the trees out of production?”

His father was matter-of-fact. “We can handle the hit.”

Could they?

Seth’s mother took a sip of her water. “It won’t be the first time we’ve dealt with it, anyway.”

“Anything I can do to help?” His father shifted in his chair.

Seth sat back. “Maybe you could run over the list of things you usually do to get ready for the festival with me tomorrow morning, just to make sure I didn’t forget anything.” Seth’s father kept impeccable records in the office, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a second set of eyes to look over the plans Seth had made over the last few weeks.

“Sure, I’d be happy to do that.” His father nodded and took another bite of his green salad.

“Okay, thanks, Dad. So how’d the visit with the doctor go today?”

His mother answered for her husband. “He’s got a stamp of approval on his progress—for now.”

After the heart attack in early April, his father’s medical team had performed an emergency angioplasty to open up his blocked blood vessels. His father had spent the next two weeks in the hospital and fortunately, had suffered only minor complications. The doctor believed that with careful monitoring, he’d eventually be able to resume some of the things he did before the heart attack.

“I’m still not allowed to exert myself, though. Not sure when I’ll get the green light onthat.” He frowned.

His father valued hard work above most things, and he wasn’t kidding around when he said he missed the physical labor.

Of course, he couldn’t expect to do all the planting, pruning, or harvesting that he used to do. But they had farmhands for that.

“No, you most certainly are not.” Seth’s mother had been trying to drum it into her husband’s head once he’d started to get better that he had to take it easy for a while. A stubborn, self-sufficient man all his life, his father didn’t want to hear it, but at the same time, he knew things would never be the same for him. Like it or not, he was slowly accepting the idea that his son would be handling all of the day-to-day pressures of the business from now on. That had been the plan all along, whatever the case, so his father bore no resentment toward his son.

“All in good time, Dad. All in good time.”

“You’ve got that right.” His mother looked pleased.

He knew his dad didn’t want to be left out of the business entirely, despite his weakness at the moment, now that Seth had taken over. He also knew that his mother appreciated it when Seth kept his dad busy with things hewasstill able to do. It kept his dad feeling optimistic and useful, which were necessary for his recovery. Seth returned the grin.

After dinner, Seth said goodnight and headed down the first-floor hallway of the large family farmhouse. “I’ll be in the study if anyone needs me.”

“All right, dear,” his mother said, loading plates into the dishwasher.

“Goodnight, son.” His father pulled out the day’s paper and began to skim the headlines.

At twenty-eight, Seth had made some major adjustments in his life, moving back into his parents’ home after nine years in California. Leaving behind a comfortable apartment, a couple of roommates, and all the freedom in the world, not to mention a social life—it had been quite a transition.

But his mother was accommodating, and his father, grateful, when he wasn’t facing one of his darker moments about the state of his health.

Seth knew he didn’t have to continue with his current living situation forever, though. Maybe he’d get a place of his own if something nearby opened up, or maybe he’d build a place on the family’s property.

For now, it made the most sense for him to suck it up and move back into his old bedroom on the second floor of the farmhouse.

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