“Do you?”
He smiled faintly.
She raised one eyebrow.
“Eli.”
“I'll be careful.”
Sarah sighed.
Then opened the refrigerator.
For a moment, she stared toward the shelves.
Milk.
Eggs.
A jar of pickles.
Half a loaf of bread.
And a container of leftover beans.
She took a slow breath.
Eli noticed.
“Mom?”
She looked toward him.
“Yes?”
“Are we running out of money?”
Sarah froze.
For several seconds, she didn't answer.
Then she closed the refrigerator and sat beside him.
“We're having a difficult year.”
He nodded.
“Because of the drought?”
“Partly.”
“And the bank?”
She looked surprised.
“How do you know about that?”
Eli lowered his eyes.
“I saw the letter.”
Sarah sighed.
For a moment, she seemed much older than thirty-seven.
Then she reached for his hand.
“Eli, the farm finances are my responsibility. You don't have to solve them.”
He nodded.
But his expression didn't change.
She continued.
“I need you to do your schoolwork, stay safe, and enjoy being fourteen when you can.”
He looked toward Grandpa's notebook.
“What if I can help?”
Sarah smiled sadly.
“You already do.”
“No, I mean really help.”
She studied him.
For several seconds, she seemed uncertain.
Then she asked, “What are you thinking?”
Eli pointed toward the drawing in the notebook.
“Grandpa said the North Bed could keep moisture longer than the other fields. I think he was trying to grow crops there even when the rest of the farm got too dry.”
Sarah looked toward the page.
She remembered Daniel's rock experiments.
She also remembered how many of them failed.
“Sweetheart, your grandfather tried a lot of things.”
“I know.”
“Some worked. Some didn't.”
Eli nodded.
“I know that too.”
She studied his face.
Then asked, “Why watermelons?”
He hesitated.
“Because Grandpa saved seeds from the ones we grew the summer before he got sick.”
Sarah's eyes filled.
For a moment, she looked away.
Eli continued.
“He said the North Bed might be good for them if we could keep the roots cool and find enough water.”
She took a breath.