They cared less about the chickens than Avery expected.
They cared about traceability.
Egg handling.
Food safety.
Water source.
Record consistency.
Worker training.
Pesticide records.
Exclusion periods.
Avery passed preliminary review with corrective actions.
She needed a better egg-washing setup.
More standardized labels.
Dedicated cold storage.
Money.
Always money.
The bank would not finance expansion yet.
Avery almost declined the pilot.
Then Maria from Bell & Pine invested in a small equipment lease.
Not charity.
A business agreement.
In exchange, her bakery received guaranteed egg pricing for two years.
Avery negotiated aggressively.
Maria smiled.
“Your father would be proud.”
Avery’s expression changed.
Maria immediately regretted it.
“Sorry.”
“No.”
Avery shook her head.
“He would argue about the lease rate.”
Maria laughed.
“Then I’m honored.”
The first season after the flood became the real test.
Birds left fruit-production blocks well before harvest.
Pest monitoring continued.
Avery did not eliminate sprays.
That would have been reckless.
She adjusted based on scouting.
Codling moth pressure remained lower in several treated areas, though weather also influenced counts.
Fallen fruit sanitation was better.
Weed control improved unevenly.
Some areas showed excessive scratching.
Avery changed rotation.
She sold one hundred thirty hens when density proved too high for spring conditions.
That disappointed people who wanted the magical number five hundred.
Avery did not care.
Data mattered more than mythology.
By June she kept approximately 360 active layers in rotation.
Egg production remained strong.
A second flock of younger pullets was planned.
Not purchased yet.
Cash first.
Frank visited every Thursday.
He never announced a schedule.
He simply appeared.
At first to ask questions.
Then to help.
One afternoon Avery caught him repairing a gate.
“What are you doing?”
“It was broken.”
“It’s my gate.”
“It offended me.”
She stared.
“Are you becoming useful?”
“No.”
He tightened a bolt.
“My grandson wants chickens.”
Avery smiled.
“There it is.”
“Twenty.”
“Start with twenty.”
“He wants two hundred.”
“Absolutely not.”
“I told him you started with five hundred.”
“I started with sixty and made an irrational jump.”
“Kids skip context.”
Frank looked toward the trees.
Then said:
“I was hard on you.”
Avery did not answer.
He continued:
“After Thomas.”
She looked at him.
Frank kept working.
“I thought if you sold early, you’d keep something.”
“Money.”
“Sanity.”
“Your twenties.”
Avery crossed her arms.
“You offered sixty percent of appraised value.”
Frank winced.
“I know.”
“That was not charity.”
“No.”
“It was also a business opportunity.”
“Yes.”
She appreciated the honesty.
Frank set down the wrench.
“I should’ve waited until after the funeral.”
“Yes.”
“I should’ve offered more.”
“Yes.”
“You could pretend I’m not always wrong.”
Avery smiled.
“No.”