Page 25 of Sunny Skies Ahead
“Let me guess, someone named all of them after characters fromThe Office?”
“How did you guess?” Imogen said, ever the deadpan humorist. “Do you have a themed name for your chickens, too?”
“Oh yes,” I said, scooping some more eggs onto my fork. “I think Old Gram and Rambo would take issue with your claim that your eggs are better, though.”
Imogen threw her head back in a full body laugh that made my skin break out in goosebumps. Beautiful. The word was on a constant loop in my head every time she was around.
“You did not name one of your hensRambo. You wouldn’t torture her like that.”
“Guilty as charged. If it makes you feel better, she barely tolerates my crap. She much prefers Lucas.”
Imogen laughed again, and I scrambled for something else to say to make her laugh again.
But, naturally, Lucas decided that was the perfect moment to make his grand entrance downstairs. He looked like crap, as if he’d spent the entire night tossing and turning.
“There’s eggs on the stove, and some potato hash.”
“Thanks,” Lucas said without his usual tone or humor. Imogen frowned and walked over to the stove.
The two of them talked in hushed whispers, and I only caught every other word. The words “ex” and “wife” came up often enough that I assumed yet another roadblock had come up during Lucas’s attempt to divorce his ex-wife. Imogen was the one person he confided to about his marriage. They seemed to have common ground there.
I trusted that when the two of them were ready to share more with me, they would. Even if it was hard to wait it out. I wouldn’t consider myself a nosy person by default, but when the two of them did things like this—talk in hushed tones when other people were still in the room—it made things awkward. Imogen ended the conversation by hugging Lucas before coming back to the table.
“Today I thought I could show you around the farm,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee. “Give you the lay of the land, so you can go wherever you want as ideas come up for you.”
“That would be great,” Imogen said, her smile bright as she pulled her tablet and pencil out from her bag. “Before we go, will you sign into your email? I use an app that aggregates everything for me so I only have to check oneinbox, but if you’re not comfortable with that, I can do things a different way.”
“Nope,” I said, gesturing for her to hand me the tablet. “Email is the bane of my existence. Do whatever you need to do to make things easy for you.”
Imogen smiled and handed it to me. I quickly signed into both the nonprofit and farm email and handed it back to hear with an overdramatic sigh.
“I feel lighter already.”
Imogen just shook her head and smiled.
After breakfast, I tugged on my boots and grabbed my keys. Lucas was frowning over some documents at the kitchen table.
“Do you need anything?”
Lucas met my eyes, his expression tired.
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks though.”
“I know better than to ask if everything’s alright, so instead I’ll just say that you don’t have to do this on your own. Whatever you’re carrying, Connor and I can help. We all can.”
Lucas gave me a stunted smile.
“Thank you, Kam. I really appreciate it. I promise I’ll let you know if I think of anything.”
I nodded once before heading out the door. Imogen was already at the bottom of the stairs, staring out at the sprawling farm before us. A gentle breeze blew by, rustling the grasses of the pasture and kicking up dirt along the gravel road.
“Ready to go?”
“Yes,” Imogen said. “If I had a view like this, I don’t think I’d ever leave my house. It’s stunning.”
I gestured to our left, where a gently sloping path led down past the venue barn towards the back of the horse pasture. Imogen came to walk beside me, and we set off down the path.
“You have a pretty similar view out the kitchen window of the farmhouse.”
