Donna and Dale had been home from Arizona for a week when Donna drove back from town on a Thursday afternoon to find their farmhouse cold. She checked the thermostat, inspected all the windows, then called Dale to come in from the shop and take a look.
She was still putting the groceries away when Dale came in with Flora, the German shepherd, following behind.
Dale took off his winter boots, then went downstairs to check the furnace. Flora sat on the kitchen floor, hoping Donna might drop something edible.
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Donna took out a cutting board and started chopping vegetables to make soup for supper. She “accidentally” dropped a carrot in Flora’s direction.
Soon Dale was back upstairs.
“No need to call in a furnace repair expert,” he said.
Donna frowned. “I didn’t hear it start up.”
“Even I can tell we need to replace this one. It’s done.”
“We knew this day would come,” Donna said. “We haven’t replaced much of anything around here lately. The dishwasher and the fridge will be next.”
“It could take a few days to replace this thing.” Dale checked the weather app on his phone. “It’s supposed to get to -19 C tonight. I can move some baseboard heaters around in the basement to keep the pipes from freezing, but we won’t want to sleep here.”
“I hate to bother Jeff and Elaine,” Donna said. She knew her son and daughter-in-law wouldn’t complain about putting them up for a night or two, and they were just right across the yard. But Donna didn’t want to risk their good relations.
“We’ll go to town,” Dale said. Donna and Dale still owned the condo Dale’s father, Ed, had bought when he moved off the farm. They didn’t spend much time there but sometimes it was convenient. Donna occasionally stayed over after her evening book club, rather than drive home in the dark. Jeff and Elaine stayed once in a while during hockey tournaments or dance competitions.
“Can you pack a few things for both of us while I move the heaters around?”
Dale looked down at Flora. “You’ll have to spend the night in the shop. It’s too cold for you outside and you’re not built for condo life.”
Donna put the carrots back in the fridge. “If we’re in town we can order pizza,” she said.
Two hours later, Dale had safeguarded the water system and a pizza was on the way.
Dale was in the living room of the condo, stretched out on the recliner. He had a movie on Netflix and a can of diet ginger ale.
Donna was puttering in the kitchen. When she opened the dishwasher to put a stray bowl inside she caught a flash of blue on the top rack. “I found my favourite tea mug!” she called to Dale.
Dale mumbled something that Donna barely heard.
“That’s what happens when you’re running three homes,” she called to him.
The TV noise stopped.
“Three?” Dale called out from the living room.
“The trailer in Arizona,” Donna said, then she bit her lip to stop herself from reminding Dale that after he’d left his best shoes behind in the trailer, they’d had to ask their trailer park neighbours to search their closet and courier the shoes to Saskatchewan so Dale could wear them to a wedding.
“Huh. Three homes for two of us,” Dale said. “I think that’s what the kids call a ‘first-world problem.’”
“I know,” Donna said. She filled the rediscovered cup with freshly made tea, then took her knitting to the living room and settled onto the edge of the couch nearest to Dale.
“The farmhouse needs painting,” Donna said, before Dale had a chance to turn the movie back on.
“Inside or out?” Dale asked.
She shrugged. “Both.”
“If we did that, we should probably replace the living room curtains. And the furniture in there is looking pretty worn.”
“Your dog chewed up the chair legs,” Donna said.
“Flora was just a pup then,” Dale defended the dog.
Donna was knitting a sock for their daughter Trina. She held up the knitted tube of navy wool. “Maybe Trina would like a legwarmer instead of a sock.”
“Are those back in style?” Dave asked.
“Probably not,” Donna said. “But I don’t know how to turn the heel. I’ve never knitted a sock. The YouTube videos make heels look tricky.”
“That house needs a lot of work,” Dale said.
Donna nodded, thinking about the dated light fixtures and the state of the kitchen cupboards.
“Does it make sense to invest a lot in it?” Dale asked, not adding the obvious sentence ending: “now that we’re getting older and eventually we’ll have to move.”
Donna didn’t answer; Dale stayed quiet.
The house wasn’t big, and, by 2023 standards, certainly not fancy. But Dale and Ed had built most of it themselves when Dale decided to spend his life on the farm. It was a solid house. Dale and Donna had never lived together anywhere else, and their kids had grown up there.
After an awkward silent minute, Dale turned the movie back on and looked at the screen, though Donna didn’t think he was paying attention.
Donna hadn’t thought she was ready to leave the farm. She still ran a combine during harvest, and she loved living in the same yard as two of her three grandchildren. When they were smaller, Connor or Jenny would knock on Donna’s door to see if she’d baked cookies.
Now they were older, though. Donna was almost as likely to see them in Weyburn, at the hockey rink or the dance studio. And soon, maybe even this year, Connor would be old enough to run the combine. He wouldn’t want his grandmother in his way. The condo in town was handy for a lot of the things Donna liked: book club, camera classes, the town cross country ski trails, pickleball courts.
Things would be more difficult for Dale, she thought.
Dale didn’t work as much as he had 10 years earlier, but he was still out in the yard every day — fixing machinery, dealing with seed customers, running equipment. He found things to do in the Arizona trailer park for eight weeks a year, but a whole winter in town? He’d probably drive to the farm every day, like Ed had done.
But maybe Dale would at least stay in town when it was cold or rainy. He could join his farmer friends when they had morning coffee at the café.
Donna looked at Dale, wondering if he was having the same thoughts.
She was about to ask when the entryway doorbell buzzed.
“Pizza,” Donna said, getting up to find her wallet and answer the door.
She collected the pizza, then put slices on plates for each of them. She pulled forks, knives and napkins out of the kitchen drawers.
When she took the plates to the living room, Dale stopped the Netflix movie again and looked up at her.
Dale asked, “Did you know there’s a house for sale over on the north end? It’s got a workshop in the back yard.”
