Cultivating Love

The thwack of the screen door slamming shut echoed through the strangely quiet house. Joe knew Ed was home; his car was in the drive, but where was the usual classic rock or bluegrass spilling from the open door?

“Ed?” A chair squeaked on the linoleum in the kitchen, and Joe walked through the front room toward the back of the house.

Ed peered up, a blank look on his face, when Joe entered the room. Papers were strewn across the old Formica-topped table where Ed sat. He still wore his mechanic’s coveralls and hadn’t showered yet. Another bad sign.

Joe put the bag of groceries on the counter. “What’s wrong?”

Ed took a deep breath and peered into Joe’s eyes. “My father’s dead.”

Joe cocked his head. “Yeah, I know. He died…what? Before you were born, right? Twenty-five years ago?” He looked pointedly at the papers strewn about the table. “What’s this all about?”

“No, you don’tknow. Ididn’t know.” Ed suspended a shaky hand over the documents. “According to this, he justdied, as in less than two weeks ago.”

“Whoa.”

“I spent my whole life thinking he was dead.” Ed ran fingers through his thick, dark, wavy hair. “That’s…that’s what my mother said, anyway. I don’t know what to think anymore.”

Joe swallowed. What could he say? “Wow.” Not very helpful, but Ed had no living relatives to ask about any of this. Or did he? Who the hell knew?

“Yeah.” Ed gathered together the scattered paperwork. “Some lawyer from Mayfield, Nebraska, had this stuff delivered this afternoon. Apparently, my father was alive and well until a motorcycle accident killed him instantly twelve days ago.” Ed looked up again. “He left everything he had to me.”

“You’re kidding.” Joe plopped onto a kitchen chair.

“Why didn’t he contact me? I mean…ever? Not when I was a kid, not even when Mom died. I was only seventeen. I could have used a little help. And if Mom was keeping him from me, then why didn’t I hear from him in the eight years since she died?”

None of it made any sense. “And why weren’t you notified sooner? If you’re next of kin, wouldn’t you have to handle the…well…the funeral arrangements and such?”

Ed shrugged. “Maybe he didn’t go around telling people he had a son out there somewhere. Maybe he left some kind of instructions of his own for that stuff.”

“Maybe. Would’ve been nice if you’d had the chance to at least attend his funeral.” Joe sighed and nodded to the piles on the table. “So, this paperwork…it’s about whatever he left you?”

Ed looked steadily at Joe before continuing. “He left me a farm outside of Mayfield. A section, six hundred forty acres. Apparently, the inheritance includes a bank account, a farmhouse, and everything in it. Outbuildings, equipment, livestock. He even had a life insurance policy listing me as the beneficiary so taxes and running capital shouldn’t be a problem.”

Joe’s jaw dropped. A farm? And Ed was considering keeping it? “So, what does that mean? What about the life we’ve built here?”

Ed raised his brows and continued to stare pointedly into Joe’s eyes. “You know I don’t know anything about farming.”

Joe held his breath. That was true. Ed was an auto mechanic, not a farmer. He’d certainly need help—at least at first. “But I do. You would know all about how to keep the equipment running, and you have a good head for business.” Joe affected a grin and resorted to humor. “And you’re strong and take direction verywell.”

Ed laughed. “In your dreams, bottom-boy.”

Joe sagged against the back of his chair, and the tension drained from his shoulders as Ed grinned and winked. It was a good sign that Ed’s sense of humor remained intact. But still, what the hell did all this mean?

Ed’s smile drooped again. “It is yourdream, though, isn’t it?”

Hell, yes, but the dream had evolved to include Ed. He’d much rather continue as a farmhand for hire, coming home to Ed each night, than face life under any circumstances without Ed. “I gave up on that dream long ago.”

“I wouldn’t mind being my own boss. And giving up hope of it happening doesn’t keep you from wanting it. It’s still your dream.”

Joe took a deep breath. “You always wanted to go to college. You’re so smart. With this, we could afford for you to quit work and go to college full-time.”

“But my goals for that college degree have changed. I don’t think I’d like that anymore. Work in an office, wear a suit, schmooze with other suits. I’ve been an auto mechanic for six years, and you know what? I kinda likeworking with my hands.”

“You need to think long and hard about this. If this isn’t something you can see yourselfdoing, then sell the place. I don’t want you to do this only for me.” There was nothing like laying it all on the line, but he needed to know what Ed was thinking.