Plum Upside Down (A Farm Fresh Romance Book 5)

by Valerie Comer

“No, not at all. We value having you guys in residence. Unless you think the baby will change things?”

  Noel laughed, his face glowing. “The baby will change everything... and nothing. We’re good with continuing our current roles.” He tangled his fingers with Claire’s. “We’ll need some pinch-hitting from time to time, of course.”

  “Done,” said Jo.

  Keanan choked back a chuckle. Jo understood better than any of them, but had the least time to take on new roles. Although she did watch Finnley quite a lot, saying he kept Madelynn company and out of trouble. So, anything was possible.

  Zach turned to his childhood friend. “Gabe? Sierra?”

  They glanced at each other and Sierra looked down. “We need to talk about it, I guess,” said Gabe. “The duplex has never been considered a permanent situation for us, but I hadn’t thought of taking on your parents’ home. You all might be surprised to know I don’t consider myself much of a handyman.”

  Keanan grinned and held up both hands. “I suppose it goes without saying that I have all the home I need in the grain bin.”

  “That’s great for now, man.” Noel leaned forward to see him better. “But one day you’ll have a wife and family.”

  In Keanan’s periphery, Chelsea folded her papers twice more. He held Noel’s gaze steady. “If that happens, the best answer for me is an additional pair of grain bins with a passageway joining them. I’m no more up for renovating than Gabe is. Ask Brent if I’m even capable of it.”

  Everyone chuckled. He’d learned a lot working with Brent, but nothing had been structural save installing the second floor.

  A sudden thought struck him. What if Chelsea fancied a fixer-upper? Could he do that for her? Give up his cozy home and learn to replace shingles and repair verandas? His heart expanded just a little. For her, he could, but he couldn’t imagine her asking it of him. Could barely imagine her accepting him at all, regardless of the smoldering looks that passed between them on a regular basis.

  “Chelsea?” asked Zach.

  Her curly head tilted up sharply, and her mouth opened as she stared at Zach. Clearly she had not expected to be asked.

  “I, uh. No. I can’t take on a house. I wouldn’t know the first thing to do with it.”

  Zach flipped to the third page of the report and tapped on a spot Keanan knew held the estimated value of the house and required repairs. “We can probably afford to hire Brent and his crew to fix the house up, if that makes a difference to you. Or to anyone here.”

  Chelsea shook her head so quickly her curls flared out around her head. “No, thanks. It might be a great opportunity for someone else, but not for me.”

  “It might be a year or so before I can clear my schedule to do a full renovation,” said Brent. “But it’s a definite possibility if that’s what the team wants.”

  Gabe cleared his throat. “I think we need to take a week or so to pray through this and make sure we’re making the right decision. We can buy the whole property and rent out the house, too. Maybe new team members will come and it will be perfect for them. Or maybe someone’s situation will change.”

  Noel nodded. “I agree that this isn’t the type of decision we should make in haste. Let’s commit to asking God’s direction.” He launched into a verbal prayer.

  Several of the team members spoke out in prayer before Zach closed.

  When Keanan opened his eyes, his heart hitched. Chelsea met his gaze from across the room, more openly than she’d ever done. It looked like an invitation to him. He wanted to cross the space, take her in his arms, and ask her what she was thinking. What her deepest desires were. If he could kiss her.

  Whoa. None of those things were happening here tonight. Especially not with the whole team present.

  Chapter 19

  Chelsea helped Rosemary set up a fourth folding table in what had once been Zach’s bedroom. Tables lined the perimeter of the small room with one in the middle.

  “There,” the older woman said with satisfaction. “Now I can sort everything out to which child it pertains.”

  “Everyone’s coming for Thanksgiving?” That didn’t give Rosemary and her much time to sort a lifetime of memories.

  “Everyone but Liz.” Rosemary’s eyes clouded. “I haven’t had an email from her in several weeks. I know the Internet is spottier in Thailand than here, but...”

  Chelsea gave the older woman a squeeze. How could the unknown Liz not realize what a treasure she had in her parents? If Chelsea didn’t have a great family of her own, she’d adopt this one in a heartbeat. As it was, her parents and younger brother were making the trek to Idaho for the holiday, too. She hadn’t seen them since her move in early September, but they texted, Skyped, or emailed often.

  “Anyway. Thanks for giving me a hand today.” Rosemary looked around the sparse room. “Zachary and Jo have taken the last of his things over to the log cabin. That gives us at least part of a table to set items any of the kids might want.” She sighed. “We will be carrying a lot of boxes up these stairs and back down again, but there just isn’t room to leave everything set up on the main floor. Not with all the supplies Steve needs.”

  “It’s fine. We can do this.”

  “Keanan said he’d be over later to carry the heavy ones. That boy is a gem.”

  Chelsea’s heart caught. “Right. Where do you want me to start?”

  “Cindy and Heather’s room is next door. Pictures off the walls, things out of the drawers, boxes off the shelves in the closets.” Rosemary bit her lip. “This is going to be difficult.”

  “I’m sure.” Chelsea eyed the older woman uncertainly. She could hardly stand the thought of her own parents downsizing, but it was inevitable sooner or later. Wasn’t it? After all, both she and Sierra had left home, and Jacob had all but moved out.

  She went into the next room and lifted pictures off the walls. Bits of wallpaper came off when she removed posters held on with yellowed tape. A bulletin board still covered in teenage photos came next. She carried everything to Rosemary.

  “If the girls wanted these, wouldn’t they have taken them already?” Rosemary let out a long breath. “The posters can go in the recycling box, I guess.”

  Chelsea spent two hours carrying assorted items from various rooms for Rosemary’s judgment. The older girls’ room had been stripped of everything but the double bed and an empty dresser. Floral wallpaper had faded around the brighter spots where things had hung on the walls.

  Liz’s room, smaller than Chelsea’s walk-in closet in Portland, held more mementoes. Chelsea watched Rosemary blink back tears as she arranged the items on Liz’s table.

  “Tell me about Liz.” Maybe talking would be like therapy.

  “How old are you, dear?”

  “Twenty-six.”

  Rosemary nodded. “She’s a little older than you, then. The baby of our family, three years younger than Zachary. Cindy and Heather were practically twins, just sixteen months apart, and had no room for a little sister in their busy lives. They were six and seven when she was born.”

  The Nemesek family was a lot like Chelsea’s would have been if her parents had another girl after Jacob. She’d never thought of Zach and her brother having so much in common with two older sisters, though she and Sierra were a bit farther apart in age.

  “Liz always struggled to fit. I’m not sure what Steve and I could have done differently. We certainly loved her as much as the others. Heather accused us of loving Liz more, actually. Our baby...”

  “It must have been hard.”

  Rosemary’s unfocused gaze stared out the window as though the four children played outside on the farm. “Oh, we had many happy times, too. Even Liz.” Rosemary looked at Chelsea. “I pray for her daily — constantly — that God will soften her heart and bring her home. I don’t mean that selfishly. If He wants her to serve in Thailand, I’m good with that, but right now she’s not listening. She’s cut herself off from everyone. I just want to see her again. My baby girl.”r />
  Chelsea blinked back a tear of her own for this young woman she didn’t even know. Liz had been braver than Chelsea. Instead of putting on a front and doing what was expected, she’d tossed everything and gone her own way. A tiny bit of Chelsea envied that.

  “As parents, we do our best to raise our children.” Rosemary fingered the edges of a crocheted afghan on Liz’s table. “Sometimes we’re too tired to fight for what’s right. Life comes at us from all sides. It’s been very difficult to accept that I can’t change Liz’s choices. She’s a grown woman who was raised to know the Lord. What she does with that is her choice.”

  “I can’t imagine.”

  Rosemary dabbed her eyes. “I asked you one time if you brought everything to God in prayer — little things and big things. This is where I’ve learned to depend on Him moment by moment through every day and night. I guess it hasn’t been a complete waste.”

  Chelsea reached for Rosemary and enveloped her in a hug. She’d have to remember to do the same for her own mom next week when they came for Thanksgiving. Unlike Liz, Chelsea didn’t want to cut her family ties. If anything, maybe she was a bit too dependent on them, even now.

  Rosemary hugged her back. “Thank you, dear. Now, where were we? Is there anything left in Liz’s closet?”

  “A few things. Let me get the rest.” Chelsea whirled out of the room.

  “Anyone up here?”

  Keanan’s voice. She’d been half waiting for it all morning.

  “Come on up!” called Rosemary.

  His measured tread came nearer. Chelsea fought the impulse to run, not that there was anywhere to go. Maybe it was guy trouble that had sent Liz packing for the Far East.

  * * *

  “I brought the boxes you wanted,” Keanan said as he entered the room at the head of the stairs. Then he blinked. Chelsea? What was she doing here?

  “Thank you.” Rosemary moved things on one of the tables. “I have tape here somewhere... Aha!” She brandished the dispenser. “Shall we go down to the kitchen and start on the china cabinet?”

  Chelsea eyed him. He smiled at her. She looked away.

  Baby steps.

  “Certainly.”

  Rosemary brushed past him and started down the stairs.

  “Seriously?” Chelsea’s eyes were wide. “She’s getting rid of her china? Or just packing it for the move?”

  “The house in town is quite small. She feels this is the best time to downsize their belongings.”

  “But one of her daughters will probably want it, right?”

  Keanan scratched his head. “They are only things, Chelsea. Dishes to eat from. Pretty bowls, too, I suppose.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” Chelsea hurried past him and jogged down the stairs.

  No, he didn’t. Keanan sighed and followed the women.

  “This box would be a good size,” Rosemary said as he entered the kitchen. She hefted the tape dispenser.

  “Allow me.” Keanan assembled the box. “Which would you like me to lift down first?”

  She turned to the cabinet. “We’ll set it all out on the table. Maybe the dinner plates first. Chelsea, dear, would you mind shredding paper from that box? Old paperwork from decades ago. It will make good packing material.”

  “Okay.” Chelsea looked from one to the other then started the shredder.

  “How’s Steve today?” asked Keanan as he lifted down stacks of dinnerware.

  Rosemary grimaced. “Tired. Even though he can’t do much to help other than sorting papers, he’s as exhausted at the end of the day as I am. Now that we’ve embarked on this move, I can’t wait to see it through. Once we’re settled again, he’ll do much better.”

  Chelsea turned off the shredder. “Where did you get this lovely china?”

  Rosemary stroked the floral pattern at the edge of a plate. “Much of it was a wedding gift from my aunts. In those days every bride needed china and crystal, no matter how big or fancy her house was.”

  “It must hold many special memories.”

  Keanan bit his tongue.

  “It does. I hope one of the girls will want to take it home. If not, I’ve heard of people selling things like this on eBay. Maybe I’ll give that a try.”

  “You’re getting rid of it?” Chelsea’s voice held a tremor. Keanan couldn’t be quite certain, but he didn’t think it was faked.

  “It’s time, I think.” Rosemary aligned the top plates. “We rarely have dinner parties here anymore. Everything has moved next door to Green Acres.” She smiled at Chelsea. “I don’t mind. The straw bale house has so much more room. We’ll be, what, twenty-five people next week for Thanksgiving? Even in our best days, we couldn’t hold that many here. Besides, it’s good for Steve that we can come home when it becomes overwhelming. We don’t have to wait for everyone to leave.”

  “I get that, but surely these dishes still hold sentimental value.”

  No wonder Chelsea had looked down on his grain bin home. There certainly wasn’t room in his space for non-utilitarian items. Things that had more than one function were even more valuable. She’d never be able to adjust to his lifestyle.

  Could he adjust to hers?

  She pursed her lips as she stacked plates inside a box, smoothing a handful of shredded paper between each.

  No, he couldn’t. Not really. God had challenged him to hold earthly goods loosely. Looked like Chelsea wasn’t interested in that lesson.

  “Chelsea, dear, it’s not that we couldn’t wedge the china cabinet into the new place, but I want to free myself from things I don’t need. From clutter. It seems better to sort through things now rather than make the kids deal with it all after we die.”

  “But you’re not that old!”

  “Age has little to do with it. I thought Steve’s number was up four and a half years ago. God spared him, and I’m so thankful. But none of us knows when we will die.”

  Chelsea moved on to the next box.

  Keanan taped the first shut then grabbed a felt pen and labeled it.

  “Under the table on the left side of the room upstairs, please,” said Rosemary.

  He nodded and carried it up. Remnants of the family’s history lay spread across the tables. Maybe he should cut Chelsea some slack if she’d had to deal with all this.

  She’d lived a life of privilege. He’d wager her parents’ home was at least the size of his father’s house in Beverly Hills. Mom’d had no trouble walking away from it all when she’d had enough of Dad, and she’d never regretted it.

  Keanan had left for different reasons, of course. But he had just as few regrets.

  He should invite Mom for Thanksgiving. He couldn’t very well head to Oregon right now with all the Alpha meetings and the other loose ends he needed to tie up before Africa. She probably already had plans — it was only two weeks away — but what did it hurt to ask?

  Without giving it any more thought, he pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped her icon.

  “Keanan! It’s good to hear from you. All is well, I hope?”

  “Hi, Mother. I’m doing well. And you?”

  “Fine here. Not as busy as some years in November, but I have enough Christmas orders to keep me occupied.”

  Was that a good sign... or not? He took a deep breath. “I was wondering if you’d like to come to Idaho for Thanksgiving. You could fly into Spokane if you wanted. I’d be happy to pick you up.” Uh, that would require borrowing a vehicle, but it shouldn’t be too hard.

  “Really? I’d love to see where you’re living now before you head off on another adventure.”

  “So you’ll come?”

  “Let me look into flights, and I’ll let you know.”

  He crossed the room to look out of the window at the late fall day. “That sounds wonderful. I can’t wait to introduce you to everyone here.”

  “Oh?” There was a lilt to her voice. “Anyone special?”

  “No.” Oh, who was he kidding? “Maybe.” Even though i
t didn’t seem there was any way he and Chelsea could find a level playing field.

  “In that case, I’ll make every effort.”

  “Don’t start ringing wedding bells yet, Mother. I really don’t know if things will work out but, yes, there’s someone special.”

  She laughed, a sound that warmed his heart. “Should I start designing an engagement ring?”

  “It might be too early for that.” If only. If ever.

  “I’ll talk to you as soon as I can figure out how to get there. I love you, Son.”

  “I love you, Mother.” He pressed to end the call then pivoted to return downstairs.

  Chelsea, eyes wide, stood in the doorway clutching a box. Her face flushed as their gazes locked.

  Keanan’s mind scrambled. What had she overheard? Had he said too much, or had his mother done all the jumping to conclusions on the other end?

  Wedding bells. He closed his eyes for a second. Those had been his words. He’d admitted there was someone special. He took the box from Chelsea and set it with the other before looking at her again.

  “My mother might come for Thanksgiving.”

  Her jaw clenched. “So I heard.”

  “Chelsea...”

  She flicked a glance at his eyes then turned away.

  “Chelsea,” he repeated, and she stopped with her back to him. Why did words fail him now? He’d told her weeks ago he found her special. Nothing new had happened. But now he’d said it out loud to his mother. And Chelsea had heard him.

  “What?”

  He touched her arm, and she shifted slightly away. Would gathering her in his arms and kissing her break through her reserve, or would she slap him hard and never speak to him again?

  He wasn’t willing to take the chance. He swallowed hard. “Nothing. Let’s go help Rosemary.”

  Chapter 20

  Claire pointed her pen toward the bedroom wing. “We can put Cindy and Tom and their kids in the guest rooms down the hall. Rosemary has space for Heather’s family, and Sierra wants your parents to stay with her and Gabe.”