The Farmer's Son

Chapter 34 Make Her Shine

When Alan and Noah came down to breakfast the next morning, they found it already waiting for them, along with Ray elbow deep in a sink full of soapy water, wearing a very bright yellow apron with ruffles along the hem.

At the sight of him Alan burst into laughter. "Looks good on you," Alan said, coming up beside Ray and yanking at the ruffles at his knees.

"Hey, that's harassment, Walker," Ray said, wiping his hands on a dishtowel. "And I know. Yellow is my color."

While the boys laughed, Noah paused. Walking into the kitchen and seeing that bright, warm apron by the sink had shocked him, and for a brief moment he'd been overcome by a sense of nostalgia: of coming down to the kitchen that first morning after he and his wife were married, of seeing her smile, hearing her laugh. It hit him like a wave on sand, flooding completely before receding and taking a little bit of him with it. 

Sensing, and seeing, some of what the man was feeling on the tan face, Ray broke off his laugh. "Sorry," he said. "I found it in the pantry."

Noah cleared his throat. "Not like we use it," he said gruffly. Hiding his face under his hat, he took his seat at the big butcher block kitchen table.

Ray exchanged glances with Alan, who shook his head slightly before turning towards the stove. Reaching behind, Ray untied the apron and passed it over his head, then laid it over a stool at the island before moving towards the table. "I noticed some of the pots and pans could do with a scrubbing," Ray said, pouring cold orange juice all around. "I was thinking I might scrub the rest of the kitchen, too—unless you need me in the fields."

"We've almost done with the survey," Alan said, spooning scrambled eggs onto a plate from the skillet. "Just need to send the drone up a few more times. Pa and I can handle it."

"Drone?" Ray asked, taking the plate of eggs from Alan and setting it in front of Noah. "When did you get that?"

"I borrowed it," Alan said, picking up a new plate. At the table, Noah gave a scoffing grunt, and Alan gave a sharp sigh. "Yes, it's from the subsidiary," he said, shooting his father a look. "But at least we know their equipment works. If you're going to lease the Dalton farm to them—"

"I haven't agreed to that yet," Noah said vehemently.

"Yet," Alan emphasized. "Unless you want to sell off more of our equipment."

Noah grunted again and began violently buttering his toast, while Alan shook his head. Ray took the opportunity to ask about something that had been on his mind. "You mentioned selling off equipment before," he said slowly "Does that mean...?"

"Calm down, your truck is still there," Alan said, exasperated but amused.

"I wouldn't let him," Noah said.

"Good man," Ray said, holding out a hand for Noah to shake, which the man did.

"I don't have the energy this morning for you two," Alan said, shaking his head as he took a seat beside Ray.

After breakfast, while the Walker men took to the fields, Ray stayed inside. He washed and put away the morning dishes, then wiped the counter tops and island. Then the sink got a scrub. Before long, the pantry and all the cupboards were empty, and he was amassing a pile of broken dishes and expired products by the kitchen porch door.

At around eleven Alan came back to the house, almost tripping over the pile by the door. "Did all that come from our cupboards?" he asked, nudging some old boxes of baking soda with the toe of his boot.

"This and more," Ray said. Standing in front of the pantry holding two boxes of oats in his hands, he nodded to the floor behind him. "Watch your step, I created a snowman over there where two bags of flour split. Why do you have the stuff? I've never seen you use it."