She looked up sharply.
“Owen.”
I stood in the doorway.
“Are we?”
For several seconds, she didn't answer.
Then she put down the calculator.
“Come here.”
I walked toward her.
She pulled out a chair.
I sat.
Then she took a breath.
“We have challenges.”
My stomach tightened.
She continued.
“We have challenges,” Aunt June continued, “but challenges aren't the same thing as defeat.”
I stared at her across the kitchen table.
The calculator sat between us, surrounded by envelopes, invoices, and three cups of coffee she'd forgotten to finish. Outside the farmhouse window, the last light of evening stretched across the trout ponds. The water coming through Grandpa's enormous iron pipe made its familiar, steady sound.
I had known that sound my entire life.
Until recently, I'd never imagined it could disappear.
“Are we losing money?” I asked.
Aunt June looked at the papers.
“Some months.”
“How much?”
She hesitated.
Then she turned the calculator toward herself.
“Enough that we need to make changes.”
I swallowed.
“Like selling the fish?”
“We already sell the fish, sweetheart.”
“I mean selling all of them. Closing the farm.”
She removed her glasses.
For a moment, she looked so tired that I almost wished I hadn't asked.
“We aren't making that decision tonight.”
“But we might?”
She reached across the table and took my hand.
“Owen, your grandfather left this property in a trust because he wanted you to have a home. He also knew that running a working farm costs money.”
I stared at her.
She continued.
“Feed, maintenance, insurance, electricity, veterinary care. None of those things stop costing money because somebody we love has died.”
I looked toward the window.
“Grandpa always made it work.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Aunt June gave a sad little smile.
“Sometimes by working harder than he should have.”
I didn't answer.
She squeezed my fingers.
“And sometimes by asking people for help when he needed it.”
That surprised me.
Grandpa had always seemed capable of fixing almost anything.
Aunt June noticed my expression.
“Your grandfather had friends who understood electrical systems. People who helped maintain the ponds. A bookkeeper who checked his accounts. A radio technician who inspected the relay.”
She leaned closer.
“He didn't do everything alone, Owen. He just made it look easy to you.”
I looked down.
For a long time, I had imagined that becoming a man like Grandpa meant learning enough to solve every problem myself.
Now I was beginning to understand how impossible that expectation was.
“What about the county?” I asked.