“Very well. I’m calling because I wanted to confirm some details of the will we signed yesterday. Are you sure about your decisions?”
“More sure than ever.”
“Perfect. I also wanted to inform you that your son came to my office very early this morning. He wanted to know if there was any way to contest the changes you made.”
I wasn’t surprised. David had always been persistent when he wanted something.
“And what did you tell him?”
“I explained that the documents are perfectly legal and that you are in full possession of your mental faculties. I also suggested that if he wanted to reconcile with you, he should come and talk to you directly, not through lawyers.”
“And what did he say?”
“He left without a word.”
After hanging up, I decided it was time to start my new life in earnest. I couldn’t stay lamenting the past. I had to build something new, something meaningful.
I walked all over the farm, seeing it with different eyes. It was no longer just the property I had inherited from my husband. It was no longer just the place where I had raised my son. Now it was my future, my project, my legacy.
The house needed repairs. The kitchen roof had leaks we had ignored for months because we didn’t have the money to fix it, according to Amber. But now that I didn’t have to support three non-working adults, I did have money.
I called Mr. Peterson, the town’s contractor, an honest man who had worked for us for years.
“Mrs. Margaret, what a pleasure to hear from you. How can I help you?”
“Mr. Peterson, I need you to come and look at the house. I want to make all the repairs we’ve been putting off.”
“All of them? Are you sure? That’s going to be a big project.”
“I have time and I have money. When can you come?”
“I’ll stop by tomorrow morning if that works for you.”
Next, I called the veterinarian. For months, I had wanted to buy more chickens and maybe some goats, but Catherine complained about the noise and the smell.
“Dr. Bell, this is Margaret. Could you advise me on expanding my coupe?”
“Of course. What do you have in mind?”
“I want to start a small farm. Chickens, goats, maybe some pigs. Something that will give me a steady income, but also keep me busy.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea. Is your family on board?”
“My family is me, doctor, and I am completely on board.”
That afternoon, Helen and I sat at the dining room table making plans. She brought paper and pencil, and I laid all my ideas on the table.
“What if we start a small home-cooked meal business?” Helen suggested. “Your cooking is delicious, and I know how to make preserves and jams.”
“Do you think it would work?”
