Page 12 of Sweet Music
“Sugarville Grove, if it’s not too far,” Cash told him.
“Not at all,” the driver said. “Do you have an address for me?”
Cash shared it, and a moment later they were on their way to Lawrence Farm.
“That’s not the maple sugar place is it?” the driver asked. “I took my grandkids out there a few years back.”
“Nope,” Cash said. “That’s the Hayes Farm nearby. They’re good people. My family runs a dairy farm.”
“Oh, now that’s a good business, dairy,” the driver mused. “My sister kept goats back in the day.”
“Around here?” Cash asked. “What’s her name?”
And just like that, they fell into a normal conversation. Cash highly doubted the man recognized him, and if he did, he didn’t say a word about it.
People in Vermont were like that. It wasn’t just because Cash was from here, plenty of celebrities and billionaires holed up in their mansions near the ski places and still wandered out to farmers markets and festivals in sweats and flip-flops, and the natives wouldn’t fuss over them for anything. There was real respect for privacy here, but also a conviction that people were people, and everyone should be treated the same.
By the time the little cab carefully clattered over the covered bridge and the sign for Lawrence Dairy Farm came into sight at last, Cash knew everything there was to know about the driver, his wife, his kids, and even hisgrandkids.
“Well, I hope you have a very nice visit, young man,” the older man said as Cash hopped out.
“Take care, Lonny,” Cash told him, giving a friendly wave before he headed up the driveway toward the house.
He had traveled light, with nothing but Grandpa’s guitar, so it felt almost like he’d just been dropped off after a gig back in high school.
The house and fields were still mostly shaded by the mountains, though the sun winked just over the crest. There was nothing like the morning stillness of the farm in the winter.
He looked out over the snowy fields of his childhood, and suddenly there was nothing in the world he wanted more than to be in his mother’s arms.
“Charles Cash Lawrence,”a voice sang out across the field, as if in answer to his prayer.
He turned to see his mom trooping up from the old barn, a smile on her face so big he could see it from where he stood.
She wore one of Dad’s old coats with her tall boots and jeans. Her long, brown and silver braid was over one shoulder, and she looked as timelessly beautiful as ever. Even in her work clothes, Mom’s megawatt smile made her prettier than any actress or model in Cash’s eyes.
He jogged for her, and they met in the middle, both of them laughing and panting a little as they embraced, their breath clouding in the sweet, early morning air.
Her solid form felt so small in his arms. When he thought of being hugged by Maggie Lawrence, it wasalways a memory of when he was tiny and could bury himself in her soft bosom.
But her arms were as strong as ever as she squeezed him tight, and he felt just as safe and comforted, even though it had been ages since he’d grown bigger and taller than she was.
“What a lovely surprise,” she said at last, pulling back so that he could see the tears sparkling in her blue eyes. “What brings you home?”
He opened his mouth, but found he couldn’t answer.
“I missed you,” he said after a moment.
“Well, we missed you too,” she told him with a big smile, clapping him on the shoulder.
He didn’t miss the look in her eye as she led him toward the house, laying out a cheerful rundown on everything currently happening on the farm. She knew something was wrong, but she was giving him space to tell her in his own time.
Together, they headed up the steps of the stone farmhouse that used to belong to Grandma and Grandpa. Mom and Dad had moved in when Tag and his first wife took the big green Victorian that had been theirs. He’d heard all about how Dad had hired contractors to remove a wall and put in a beautiful new kitchen that was the setting for all the family dinners these days.
Cash had seen the photos in the family chat now and then. It would be nice to finally sit at that big table and see all those beloved faces again.
“Shoes,” voices called out from the back of the house as Mom opened thefront door.
Cash had to smile. He hadn’t heard that in so many years.
