Saturday afternoon, Uncle Ben, Tyler and I walked around the farm—not the whole thing, in deference to Ben—but enough so he could get an idea of the place. I showed Tyler where the pumpkins had grown, and some of the paths we had used for hayrides.
“The families had a blast,” I said as the three of us walked up the steps on the front porch of the house a while later.
“I bet,” Tyler replied. He moved to the door. “Why don’t I make us something cool to drink and you two sit for a minute, okay?” Without waiting for our response, he went inside.
Uncle Ben sat in his regular rocking chair and I in mine. “Boy’s good for you,” he said. “Nice manners, too. Fits in here.”
I stared at Ben. “That’s a mouthful, coming from you.”
“Shut it, boy.”
I smiled and enjoyed the sunshine and view before m
