“Once you’re done Becky will take you out to the barn,” Bill said and turned away to pour himself more coffee, “Do what she says.
“Becky, I’ll be down south along the Little Snake if you need me, the gabions are near washed away and need replaced.”
“Aright, Da,” Becky replied.
Bill turned around and gave Jake a long stare, his black hair that so resembled Jake’s shot with salt and pepper gray.
“I’m doin your Judy a favor having you out here,” Bill said flatly, “Don’t make me regret it.”
“I’m… I’m sorry I overslept,” Jake said defensively.
Bill grunted and then turned and walked out of the kitchen. Jake gave a sigh of relief the moment he was gone while Becky took a noisy slurp of her coffee.
“What did you do to get exiled out here anyway?” Becky asked with a grin.
Jake sighed and rolled his eyes, the truth that he’d spent too much time partying and drinking and let his grades slide to the point where he had nearly been expelled more than he cared to relate at the moment. Or that his mom hadn’t given him a choice but to come out to spend the summer working with her brother on the farm they had both grown up on.
“Hurry up, Shorty,” Becky said when it became clear that Jake wasn’t going to respond, “The horses don’t know the time and get upset when we don’t feed them when they expect it.”
“Shorty? And that’s it?” Jake asked while he tried to finish his breakfast in record time, “We just have to feed horses?”
“Part of it,” Becky replied and held up her right hand with thumb and index finger held about an inch apart, “Shorty.”
Jake rolled his eyes and ate the last bite of toast before pushing his chair back to put his socks on. Becky stood up and walked over to what Bill had called the ‘mud room’ that he had insisted Jake leave his sneakers in, a small room between the kitchen and the back porch that also contained the washer and dryer. And his sneakers hadn’t even been muddy. Becky stomped her feet into rubber waders that were definitely covered in mud and maybe other less savoring things when Jake walked over beside her.
“No,” Becky said when she saw him bend down to grab his shoes, “You’ll go and ruin your shoes, use Dad’s old mudders.”
Jake glanced over to see Becky pointing to two oversized rubber boots and wrinkled his nose.
“Seriously?” he asked.
“Wear those or go barefoot,” Becky shot back, “Your sneakers won’t last till lunch, Shorty.”
“Ok, enough with the fucking Shorty,” Jake said starting to get aggravated and grimaced as he slipped the boots on.
“Yea, you were just cold, weren’t you,” Becky shot back and took a heavy jacket off a hook and threw it at Jake’s chest who barely caught it in his surprise.
She slipped on a second jacket without another word and then stepped outside, the air crisp enough for Jake to see her breath each time she exhaled.
“It ever get warm around here?” Jake demanded as he followed her out while slipping his jacket on.
“It’ll be in the seventies by lunch,” Becky replied without bothering to turn to look back, “Grab that wheelbarrow.”