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Maxwell was finishing the bills, and readying to attend a carnival tonight with Annalise. The farm was doing great, and all the bills were well taken care of this year, which was a relief. The growing operations for the season were looking incredibly positive, and Maxwell had attended a couple of auctions to increase his livestock numbers to add to the season’s output. Overall, he had no concerns. His mother had asked him about maybe doing a bit of sprucing up around the main house, with some paint and furnishings. She had some ideas about making it a bit homier.
She wasn’t wrong, as the home had only two bachelors residing in it for years. The basic furnishings, dark interior, and aged carpets needed a facelift. After a full review, he had an amount he could give his mother to spend and let her put a stamp on the old homestead. The sparkly green Formica countertops in the kitchen appeared from the conversation to be the first thing she would take to the dumpster.
As he moved through the house, the faint smell of cookies wafted to his nose. He followed the smell into the kitchen and found his mother humming a song as she made gingersnap cookies. They were one of his all-time favorites.
He went to grab one, and she slapped his hand. “These are for the cookie booth this evening,” she informed.
“Oh no, did the town ladies suck you into their volunteer efforts,’ he groaned out loud exaggeratedly.
“I needed to find something to keep my hands busy, and I am making some good friends,” she said happily. She seemed to be engaging with hands around the farm and with some ladies at Living River Ranch. She had even gone to town shopping with a new friend last week.
“Just one, won’t hurt anything,” he said, trying once again for the cookie.
“Nope. The slush fund needs cash, and I might have made this particular cookie to ensure my son does his fair share of contributing to said worthy cause.”
He shook his head, “I may regret living with my mother yet.” He lamented, though inside, he was glowing. Having her around was making him so happy.
The doorbell chimed.
“Are you expecting someone?” He asked, glancing at his mother.
“Nope.”
“Hmmm, maybe it’s a delivery,” he said, taking off for the door. It was unlikely to be visitors with everyone in town ready for the festival this evening.
Without a thought, he swung the old wooden door open. His heart hit the pavement, and he felt light-headed. Trying to stop the buzzing in his ears, he inhaled sharply and released the breath.
“Hello, big brother,” Trista said, after a long moment.
The emotions surging through his body had him angry, upset, happy, and elated all at the same time. He had no words and didn’t know what to say. He simply backed up and allowed her inside. She was holding an envelope close to her chest as she stepped into the foyer.
“Can I have a hug,” she said, holding out her arms.
He walked into them, as the tears started to flow. He realized a grown man crying was not usual, but there was nothing on the planet that could have stopped the reaction.
“Honey, who was–aaaaaghhhh,” his mother screamed from behind him, running toward his sister. She was hugging them both so hard;, he didn’t know where the strength had come from.
Finally, silence returned as they stepped back from each other. “What made you come here? Not that I’m not grateful, but after all this time,” he said, heaving as his mom openly cried.
She held out the envelope, “This.”
“What is that?” he asked, taking hold of the contents inside and pulling it out. He recognized the Living River Ranch brochure and put that behind the notecard. A simple message was handwritten on the card,
“Ecclesiastes 3:6 A Time to Search and A Time to Give Up–please know your family has searched for years, and while it might appear they are giving up that is the furthest thing from the truth. Should you ever decide it’s time to give up searching for the truth out there, come home to Little Bend and the family that will always leave a light on for you. I hope someday to have the honor to meet you myself, Annalise (a friend of Maxwell’s and your Mom’s)
His address followed.
He stood dumbfounded. He remembered the day Annalise had taken the letter from him and shot a picture. She said she had a friend that might be able to find a way to get a message to his sister. This is not what he thought she meant.”
“I didn’t know she sent this,” he whispered over the frog in his throat.
“I know,” his sister replied. “There was just something in the note and maybe reading through the brochure. I can’t explain it; I just knew I had to come. I’ve missed you both so much,” she said, moving forward to embrace his mom and him again.
They just stood embracing for the longest time. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’ve been so mad and heartbroken for so long. I thought being around you both would remind me of Treena and everything I lost.”
“No reason to be sorry,” his mother said, wiping her finger under Trista’s eyes. “You are here now.”
“We have so much to catch up on,” he said, glancing at the clock. “We had intended to head to town for a festival, but why don’t we just stay in.”
“I would love to get out and see your town,” Trista said with a smile.
“How long can you stay?” His mom asked.
Trista just shook her head, “I am a writer and can do my job from anywhere. I was planning to stay as long as it takes to reconnect.”
“Oh no,” he said with a chuckle, “you know she is going to hold you, hostage, here, right?” He said, inclining his head toward his mother.
Trista gave a small laugh, “I knew that was a risk.”
His mom grabbed his hand and squeezed. “I’m so happy,” she whispered.
He looked down at the paper. He couldn’t believe Annalise had done this, but it was right up her alley. He would owe her big, until the day he died.
