Page 70 of The Burbs and the Bees
“You didn’t get any yet?”
“No, been too busy.” I’m just glad I don’t have a bee allergy and didn’t go into anaphylactic shock last time. A trip to the hospital is not on my to-do list. Dad would be here in a heartbeat if he received the insurance bill, reminding me I don’t have my life together.
Jay opens his fridge and pulls out a bottle. “We can run to the drugstore later for more if you want.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I say, and my phone pings. I pull it from my pocket and snort. “It’s like he knows I’m thinking about him.”
“He?”
“My father,” I say. “He’s just checking in on me, or rather checking up on me. Again.”
“Everything okay?”
I glance out the door, take in the gorgeous green trees and gardens. But now, not even the chirping birds are bringing me joy. “He’s one of those people I was telling you about. The biggest one, as a matter of fact.”
He frowns. “That’s tough, Alyson.” He, too, stares off into the distance for a moment, and his dark eyes cloud over. “For what it’s worth, I know all about disappointing a parent.”
“Really?” I shake my head. “I find that hard to believe. You do so much for your family.”
His hand goes to the scar on his face. “It wasn’t always like that.” He turns back to me. “You’re not going to answer him?” he asks, sliding the subject back to me.
“Nope. I’ll message him back later. Right now, I’m going to learn all about bee farming. You ready?”
“Yup.” He puts his hand on the small of my back to lead me back outside. “Let’s go to the barn and get suited up.” We head up a hill, and I take in the half-finished barn.
“What are you building?”
“Shelter for beef cattle.”
“You have cows?”
“Not yet, but I have permits in, and I’m expecting to start by fall. I want to raise beef without the use of hormones or steroids. I’ll start small, sell local, and go from there.”
“You really do care about people, don’t you?”
He nudges me playfully and I falter a bit in my boots. “Don’t you?”
“I do,” I say. “What made you think to do beef farming? You have so many other things going.”
“I have crops, but I want to work with animals. Raising beef was something my father always wanted and put off because he didn’t know enough about them. My degree is in bioveterinary science. I was going to be the brains behind the operation.”
“Bio what?”
“I studied animal health and welfare. I don’t want to hang a veterinary sign. I’d rather work outdoors. I want to raise animals and help other farmers if they need assistance.”
“Your father would be proud,” I say. “This is all very impressive.”
“You think?” he asks, like he doesn’t really believe me.
“You always knew you wanted to do this?” I ask.
“Farms are handed down. It was a given. I guess it’s just a good thing I like this lifestyle.”
“There was nothing else you wanted to be? Fireman? Police officer?”
“It’s not a bad thing, Alyson.”
“I don’t mean—”
