Page 4 of Over the Verdant Hills
They smelled clean but old, like they’d been there forever, and she thought she recognized them as sheets she’d used when she’d stayed over as a girl.
She wanted to put the sheets to her nose and breathe deeply, because the scent felt comforting and familiar, even if it brought her a little sadness to think that so many years had gone by.
But her kids already thought she was a little bit nutty, and she didn’t want to hold them up on purpose, especially not after such a long trip. They’d broken it down into two days, but it had still been a lot of driving, and they were all tired. The kids wanted to run around, and she couldn’t blame them.
So she allowed them to pick the rooms they wanted, and she decided she’d stay in one of the beds that were already set up, but she would put her bed in the bedroom with the windows facing south. It had always been her favorite room, especially since it had sunshine most of the day. That was especially essential during the long Michigan winters that could be dark and cold and rather dreary. Although she recalled being outside in the snow, skiing and ice skating and generally figuring out something to do in order to play with the white stuff that came from the sky.
Wasn’t that what kids did? They made toys out of everything.
Regardless, her kids grumbled, and she had to help Dan a little bit, but they were able to get their beds made well enough that they could sleep in them for the night.
Sometime in the next few days, she would have to teach them how to use the washing machine, because she was going to expect them to do their own laundry, including washing their own sheets. If she had to get a job, which she planned to do eventually, she wasn’t going to be able to wait on them hand and foot, and she certainly wasn’t going to expect her grandmother to do that either.
The kids were going to have to grow up and take care of themselves.
Chapter Two
“We finished the beds, Grandma. Can you show us how to do the eggs now?” Dan said as soon as they walked into the kitchen where her grandmother was elbow-deep in a bowl of flour.
“That was perfect timing,” Grandma said, shaping the dough into a ball and then rubbing the floury mixture off her hands before she grabbed a cloth and covered it. “Just let me wash my hands, and we’ll go outside.”
“How many chickens do you have?” Dan asked.
Claire found herself vaguely relieved. She wasn’t sure whether she was going to have to explain to her kids that chickens laid eggs and then people ate them. She was pretty sure they knew that, but it was the kind of thing they had never actually seen before or experienced. All the eggs they’d ever seen had come from the grocery store. She was afraid they had no idea how they got there.
“I have twenty.” Grandma chuckled. “But only about twelve of them lay every day. I’m just too softhearted in my old age, and I can’t get rid of the ones that aren’t laying anymore.”
“Do you have a rooster?” Claire asked, remembering that she’d had several run-ins with her grandma’s roosters over the years and hadn’t always emerged as the winner.
“I do. But he’s a nice, calm fellow. Although sometimes roosters see things that are about their size and think about challenging them.” Her grandma eyed Dan thoughtfully. “We’ll see how he takes to you.”
“What does that mean?” Dan asked with the subtlety of a ten-year-old.
“That means the rooster might be a little bit aggressive. We’ll see.” Claire didn’t want to scare her kids, but she also didn’t want to protect them from the realities of life either.
“Are you saying the rooster may attack us?” Lana said, and she looked like she was planting her feet on the floor and getting ready to absolutely refuse to move.
“I suppose that’s a possibility. I’ve been attacked by roosters and somehow lived to tell the tale. I bet you will too,” Claire said, trying to give Lana an encouraging smile, although she gave her a dose of honesty too. What was she supposed to do, lie to her child?
Maybe she could have broken the truth a little bit more gently, because Lana looked even more determined to stay right where she was.
“I don’t think chickens are my thing. I’ll just stay in here and wait for you guys to come back.”
“If you want to do the dishes tonight, I’m okay with it,” Grandma said.
Claire hid a smile. That sly old lady. She had manipulated her when she was younger, and she hadn’t even known it. But she remembered Grandma saying similar things like that to her and how quickly it had gotten her to agree to whatever Grandma wanted her to do.
Funny, the things kids didn’t notice.
“Fine. I can go out, I guess.”
“That’s great. Then we’ll have you and your brother take turns doing the dishes, and you take turns doing the chickens.”
“Wait a second. You mean Dan also has to do the dishes?” Lana said, again planting her feet.
“Not every day. You guys can switch off. Whoever gathers the eggs, which also includes feeding and watering the chickens, won’t have dish duty in the evening.”
“Why don’t you have a dishwasher?” Dan said, eyeing the old-fashioned kitchen with its porcelain sink and Formica countertops. Thewooden cabinets looked like they were made out of particleboard and painted white about fifty years ago. It could definitely use an update.
