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“Hell yes,” she said.
I laughed and pulled her in for one last hug.
“So, if you do decide to renovate that old farmhouse, can you give me until spring?”
Spring was so far away. Plus, I wanted to do it how Papa Bennie had. He would plant in the fall and let them gather energy over winter.
But I was pretty sure it would take that long to convince Trevor to even go for it.
“Of course,” I said. “You do what you need to. And I’ll try to convince Trevor not to sell.”
“I can help with that. Let me write up a market report. That manlovesreports.”
She pulled out her laptop and got to work while I returned to my side of the booth. I was so happy for her, and even though I’d miss her, I wanted her to get everything she wanted.
I only hoped I could have the same.
Instead of doing my weekend routine the next morning, which consisted of making coffee for Trevor and me before he would point out what needed to be cleaned, I was pacing around in front of our bedroom door.
I held all the research Wren had done on the area, sippingon coffee I’d made for myself while working out exactly how to get him to see that selling the farmland wasn’t the best idea.
Trevor knocked on the wall, his sign that he was up and ready for coffee. I took a deep breath before opening the door.
“That’s not what I asked for,” he said, eyeing the papers in my hand.
“We need to talk about something.”
“And you couldn’t bring coffee?”
I sighed. “If I make it for you, will you be in a better mood?”
“I would.”
I pursed my lips, but turned to go to the kitchen. I made him a cup of coffee and then returned with it a few minutes later.
“Here,” I said.
He took a slow sip. “Okay, go ahead.”
“I don’t want to sell the farm.”
He didn’t bother looking up at me. “Of course you don’t.”
“I’m just saying that I don’t think that area is appropriate for a subdivision.” I handed him the papers. “And neither does Wren.”
He groaned and took them. “You toldherof all people?”
My shoulders tensed. What was his deal with her? He always made little comments, either suggesting she didn’t know enough about things to have an opinion, or that she was plain wrong. “She works in real estate too.”
“She’s anti-change. And biased.”
“You’re gonna say that before you even look at the research?”
“Let me guess, she told you it wasn’t suitable because it’s in the middle of nowhere and no one would want to move there.”
“It’s not near a neighboring big city,” I reminded.
“There’s a whole faction of people who work from home. We can build them farmhouses on an acre each and they’ll move in droves. My dad did the research.”