Meet You There

Chapter Twenty-seven: Celebration

We say goodbye to Kyra and decide to take the long route back to the farm so we can chat before we have to get started with today’s work.

“So, got any plans with Pants Boy today?” Brody asks, smirking to himself. 'Pants Boy'.

“Assuming you mean Ryan, no. I don't know what he was expecting when he said he wanted to come down here.”

“Non-stop partying?” Megan suggests.

“Probably. But Ranley isn't exactly spring break destination of the year.”

“Yeah, even the community center is falling to pieces,” Megan says as we pass it. I notice another slate has fell off the roof.

“I was thinking about that. How about we volunteer to fix it up?”

“What?” Megan looks skeptical.

“I mean, give it a paint job, clean it up a little, decorate it, that kind of thing.”

“Yeah, but it needs completely renovating. There's leaks everywhere and it's one storm away from completely collapsing. I'm surprised they haven't shut the place down yet,” Megan sighs.

“My dad's best friend owns a small construction company. We could probably get a discount if we asked them to fix it up,” I suggest.

“Even if we get a discount, where will we get the money?”

“We could do like, some sort of fundraiser?” Brody asks.

“That sounds great. Like, a car wash?” I ask, picturing Brody in a wet t shirt and smiling to myself.

“Yeah, and a bake sale, and I could sell old books and stuff.”

Megan, who was skeptical a few seconds ago, seems to like the idea. “I'm totally up for this. When would we do it, though?” she asks.

“I don't know, we could do it next weekend, maybe, and then start the renovation in summer,” I propose. “I'll just have to ask my dad to get in touch with his friend and ask if we can get a discount.”

For some reason, I find myself really looking forward to this. Both the fundraiser and the renovation. Once my dad's friends construction guys fix the roof and all of the basic stuff, it's fair game in terms of painting and decorating. At the fundraiser, we could ask for furniture and decoration donations from those who can't give money. Chairs and stuff.

When I get back to the barn, Ryan is napping on the sofa, drool dripping out of his mouth.

“How did it go?” asks Charlotte, sitting on the floor with her laptop, her designer glasses sitting perfectly on her nose. I love how she seems genuinely concerned for Kyra, despite barely knowing her.

“The social worker said she's gonna call Kyra in a couple of days when she's consulted with her social worker posse and reached a decision.”

Charlotte shakes her head. “Poor girl. I wish there was something I could do to help. If you knew more about the situation I could look in to the states laws on adolescent adoption and see if I could dig anything up that was worthwhile presenting to the people involved.”

I blink at her. I don't know why I haven't thought of doing my own research. “Could you actually see what you can dig up? Her name is Helen McPherson. She's based in Denver,” I say, sitting down beside Charlotte.

She types Helen's name, profession and location abruptly in to Google and then waits a few seconds for the page to load. The Kennerley's WiFi just about reaches my barn, but some days it's slower than other days.