“Should we be concerned?” Clay asked, and turned to Mark, who shrugged.
“He’s nice,” Archie piped up.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, and I’m glad you think so.” Dell ruffled Archie’s hair. He shifted his attention to Clay. “I wouldn’t think so. He might not show up for work if he decides he can’t handle it. But I don’t think he has it in him to be destructive or anything. Though he has probably heard his entire life that people like us are evil and not to be trusted.”
“That could be anyone outside the community,” Clay said.
“True,” Mark added, “but I think Dell is right. He’s a nice person, quiet, and he does the work. If he was worried, he wouldn’t have shown up. Either that or he really needs the money.”
Clay turned to Dell, biting his lower lip. “I have to ask. Do you think he gets to keep the money he’s making? Isaac works hard. He had all the goats milked in under two hours. That’s keeping the goats moving through the process without a lot of time in between. He obviously knows what he’s doing.”
“And he said he put one of the goats in the side field so we could check her out,” Mark offered. “Plus, he told me when he left that he had work he had to do at home. This is a guy who comes here, does his work, then goes home to work some more.” He really wondered just what kind of life Isaac had or the kind of prospects he had for the future. It was one thing for him to choose that life and decide for himself that was what he wanted. But it was completely different, in his view, to be born there and have it thrust on him without any say in what happened. That seemed unfair. Mark kept that to himself but figured he would try to feel Isaac out if he could.
Mark finished breakfast and thanked Clay for the meal before leaving the house and heading back out to check on the goat. Sure enough, she seemed to be walking gingerly. He examined her legs and put a call into the vet. It seemed she had injured herself. Isaac had made a good call. Injuries to the animals were always best dealt with right away when they were little issues that could easily be treated. The vet said he’d be out some time during the day, and Mark made sure the little lady had plenty of food and water before joining Dell in the dairy to make up the rest of the cheese. They had a lot of work ahead of them, but the orders were healthy, and that meant the farm would do well.
“When are you going to spend time on your own farm?” Mark’s father asked that evening when he got home well after dark.
“I have a job,” Mark answered.
He harrumphed. “There is plenty of work here that needs to be done.”
Mark turned and realized how much older his father looked these past few years. He put his hands on his hips. “And how much are you going to pay me? I work for Clay and Dell because they pay me. It’s called a job.”
“And you live here and have since you were born. You eat here and….”
“What is it with you?” Mark had heard this speech more times than he could remember. “You’ve already sold off a good portion of the land we once had because you couldn’t manage it, even with my help. What’s left isn’t all that much, and it’s mortgaged to the hilt. You have no intention of leaving me anything but debts on land that will have to be sold, and that’s it. Dad, like it or not, there is nothing here for me. So work the land or sell it and get out from under it, whatever you want to do. But I have to go forward with my life, and it isn’t going to be shackled to a failing farm with no future.” He sat at the table and motioned for his father to do the same.
“Is that it?” his father asked as though what Mark said was a complete surprise.
“Actually, no. I have a suggestion. If you want to sell the land and keep the house, then talk to Clay and Dell. See if they’d like to buy. They can work the land going forward, and you’d be able to pay off what you owe and could live in the house that you own outright. Work if you want or just figure out what will make you happy.” Mark knew that part of the issue with his dad was that he was overwhelmed and his heart wasn’t in the work any longer. Things had changed when his mom passed.
“You’re serious?” he asked.
“Yeah. Think about it, Dad. It’s a chance for you to do what you want and live how you want. But know this: I’m not bailing you out. I help out around here, always have, but I have a job and it’s a good one.” He looked down at the old Formica-topped table that his mother had served dinners at and where he’d sat to lick the spoon when she made a cake.
“I’m not selling my farm to those….” His eyes blazed with fire.
“Watch it, Dad. I’m gay too, and so help me, one slur, one nasty comment, and I’ll be out of here. You can take care of everything, all of it, or let the place fall around your ears.” Mark stood so quickly, the chair fell over behind him. “Hurting others isn’t going to change facts—you know that. Clay and Dell have a good operation. They know what they’re doing, and they are good business people. If they’re successful and you’re not, then that’s in large part to their business ethic.” He left it there. Mark’s father had never been good with the business end of things, and it was coming to light in a huge way.
“Don’t get hot under the collar. I didn’t mean that. Though how you can like men instead of women, I’ll never understand.”
“You don’t have to.” He didn’t want to have the sex conversation with his father… again. “Look, just think about what it is you want.”
“I’m not giving up,” his father stated.
“Then do something about it. Because sitting here without doing the work is giving up. You expect me to make up the shortfall for what you can’t or aren’t willing to do, and that isn’t fair. I’m your son, not an indentured servant you get to work into the ground.” They had had this conversation more than once as well, and it seemed to Mark that all he did was spin his wheels with his father.
He sighed. “So you think I should sell? Really?”
“If your heart isn’t in it, then yes. Talk to Clay. A lot of our land abuts his, and there is acreage that will fill in some of the patchwork of his. It’d help you and him, and let’s face it, the longer we try to hold on, the further into debt we get. You might want to sell the house too and move into a smaller place.”
His father looked like Mark had just stepped on his heart. “This was your mother’s house, and….”
Mark righted the chair and sat back down. “Then by all means, stay here. But, Dad, it’s been a long time. You loved Mom, I know that, but you need to move on. Let yourself be happy. If that means finding someone else to share your life, then do it.” He patted his dad’s hand and was surprised when he didn’t pull away. “There’s nothing that says you need to be alone for the rest of your life.” His dad wasn’t that old—he was just acting like it.
Mark expected to have his head bitten off, but instead he received a sigh and a lowered gaze. That was not like his demanding, over-the-top father at all. “I don’t know.”
“Okay. Why don’t you come over to Clay’s one evening and review things with him? He’s great with business and isn’t going to steer you wrong. You can figure out a price for the land, then get the figures on the loans and see what you will have left over. You could look at spinning off the house onto a separate lot so you can live here or sell it separately on its own. There are lots of options, but think about it and figure out what you really want.” He stood and left the room. Mark had said his piece, and it seemed like he might have finally gotten through. The best thing to do was retreat and let his father think.