him, she’d drive him herself.”
“Roger!”
“And I drove him,” Dad said. “God help me. I drove him.”
He put his face in his hands. His big farmer’s hands, with the knuckles cracked from forty years of winter.
“And then the place at Okoboji wanted thirty thousand,” he said into his hands. “And we’d already
signed. And I didn’t have thirty thousand. I had the operating note at the bank, a hundred and seventy thousand behind on it, three bad years in a row.” He shook his head. “So I called Vern. And Vern said it was too low, and I said I don’t care, Vern. Just write the check.”
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“Dad,” Brittany whispered.
“I paid off the operating note,” Dad said. “I paid for the wedding. And I bought a truck and a pontoon, because I told myself I deserved one thing after forty years of eating dirt.” He looked up atGet Parenting Tips
