March
“Are you being careful, Da?” Andie paced the kitchen while talking on the phone with both of her parents. “They’re talking about a full lockdown in Italy. Do you have food? Masks? Toilet paper? Can I send anything?”
“We’re fine, cara mia. I promise. We’re well-stocked with food,” her mother assured her. “We did our monthly shop before they shut everything down. We’re fine.”
Her parents and grandparents had all gone to a family property. It was secluded. Hopefully, they’d have an extra level of protection, being outside the city.
She was still worried, especially for her grandparents. The virus was spreading. Everything changed on a daily basis, it seemed.
No one knew what might happen. Andie struggled between wanting to stay informed and not losing herself in the constant news cycle. It was a blessing that the farm kept her from simply scrolling on her phone endlessly.
“How is Docherty doing?” Her father was the one who brought the subject back around to her guest at the farm. “Behaving himself?”
“Da,” Andie grumbled. “When has he ever not behaved himself?”
“Pity. You’d make such a handsome couple,” her mother teased.
“Hanging up now. Love you.” Andie ended the call with her parents’ laughter echoing in her ear. She glanced down at Rupert, who’d pressed himself up against her side. “Can I help you? You’ve already had your afternoon snack.”
Rupert wagged his tail; snack was his second-favourite word. She rolled her eyes at him—her spoiled mutt. He didn’t relent.
“Why don’t we check on the berries again? Make sure they’re getting what they need.” Andie found the early stages of spring planting to be the most delicate when using polytunnels. So she had to make sure they got just the right level of care. “Maybe we’ll check on Doc. He might need you to cheer him up if words are still being difficult.”
Opening the farmhouse door, Andie allowed Rupert to bolt out into the sunlight. She’d had a late lunch. They were a few weeks away from her first harvest of the season; her polytunnel set-up allowed her to have several throughout the year up to around December, if things went well.
Things didn’t always go well.
A meow drew her attention to the barn. She checked on her rescued mousers, making sure they had water and food still. They appeared to all be doing well.
“How’re things going then?” Andie crouched beside one of her most recent rescues. “See, you’ve grown all your hair back.”
The cat rubbed up against her legs and then meandered back into the shadows of the barn. A quick glance showed their beds, food, and water were all fine. One more thing to check off her long daily to-do list.
It was too early in the season to bring on help. She had at least another month or two for that. If she didn’t love the farm so much, it would’ve also seemed far too daunting to even begin her daily tasks.
They were inching their way into spring. Green was returning, along with all the other wonderful, vibrant colours. It was a lovely time to be outside, even with the occasional drizzle.
“Hello, Rupert. Did you find Doc?” Andie stepped out of the barn to be greeted by a gleefully wagging tail. He dropped a hat at her feet. “Well, you’ve spotted part of him at least. Where’s the rest?”
Rupert dashed between her and the tiny house, trying to hurry her up. He seemed to think he was a sheepdog. And she was obviously his lone ewe.
“Baa.” Doc waited for them in the doorway of the little house.
“Hilarious.” Andie rolled her eyes at Doc, who laughed in response. She peered down at her happily wagging dog. “I am not a sheep.”
“Baa.” Doc leaned against the doorframe and smiled at her. “He seems to be herding you like his lost lamb.”
It made his eyes crinkle. A dimple showed on his cheek. Andie sternly reminded her heart not to do anything foolish, like fall any further in love with him.
Andie couldn’t help returning his smile. Some of her worries faded away. “Up for an afternoon walk?”
“I’ve been waiting for you.” Doc stepped forward, shutting the door behind him. “I managed a hundred words.”
“Brilliant.”
“Then deleted them.”
“Less brilliant.” Andie sent Rupert chasing after his ball down the lane. “You can always try again later.”
Over the last few weeks, they’d trekked all over the farm and surrounding countryside. Each afternoon they set off in a different direction. Time always flew by while they chatted about everything and nothing.
It was comfortable. Familiar. Andie felt like she’d rediscovered her most comfortable and warm cardigan. And she was terrified to let it (him) go.
Not again.
He might not come back.
Andie worried about that a lot since his return. He’d been chased off once already. “Doc? Are you comfortable here?”
“I’m happy.” He patted Rupert on the head, then wandered on down the path.
Happy is good.
“Your hat.” Andie offered it to him. “Not sure how Rupert managed to snag it from you.”
“I made the mistake of leaving it within reach.” Doc glanced over at her. “Maybe you’re not feeding him enough.”
“He gets more than enough.” Andie kicked a pebble on the path. “You sure you’re happy? I’m not bothering you?”
“Yes, I’m happy. No, you haven’t bothered me.” Doc was his usual blunt self. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Is it my face?”
“I like your face. It’s not your face,” Andie quickly assured him. “Just want you to be comfortable.”
“I am. More than I’ve been in quite a long time.”