CHAPTER
14
Since Dillon had renovated and taken up occupancy of her little Oasis, she hadn’t spent much time inside Grandpa’s house lately. And to be honest, she didn’t want to. She still helped with meals and KP, but assuming that Margot had moved to the farm in order to “help out,” it was only right to let Margot take responsibility for running the household. Besides, Dillon figured Margot was probably glad to have her out of her hair.
Despite her trailer focus, Dillon still maintained her grandma’s garden, which was coming along nicely. And with the trailer in good shape, she’d decided to spend the rest of her Friday afternoon catching up on some garden chores. After the weeding and a few other things, she sat down on the lawn swing, determined to leisurely enjoy the rest of the pleasant summer afternoon. She was overdue for a break—and trailer painting tomorrow might be a long day. Stretched out on the lawn swing, she was just dozing off when she heard the slow creak of the garden-gate hinge.
“Well, here you are,” Margot announced, coming into the garden. “I’ve been looking all over for you, lazybones.”
“Lazybones?” Dillon was about to point out how hard she’d been working ever since coming home to the farm but realized it would probably just start an argument. She sat up and stared at her mom. “Is something wrong? Is Grandpa okay?”
“No, nothing is wrong. Your grandfather is fit as a fiddle—his words, not mine. But during lunch, he mentioned dinner plans. He’s under the impression you’re cooking tonight.”
“That’s fine.” Dillon stood and stretched. “I don’t mind.”
“Maybe I mind.” Margot placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes, almost like she was looking for a standoff.
“Why’s that?”
“Because I’m trying to get Dad—and all of us—to eat more healthfully, Dillon. Haven’t I made that perfectly clear?”
“Yes. We’re well aware of your nutrition goals. But unfortunately, Grandpa and I don’t care for your kind of health foods.”
“I know.” Margot looked defeated. “And it’s pretty frustrating. After all, I try my best and all I get is complaints and mocking.”
Dillon felt a tinge of guilt.
“I’m only trying to help Dad get healthy so that he can live a good long life. After losing Mom like that . . . well, it was a wake-up call for me. I’ve been committed to a healthier lifestyle ever since.”
“Right . . .”
“But you and Dad—well, you make it impossible.”
Dillon thought hard for a solution. “Maybe if there were a way we could compromise . . . if we could incorporate your health foods with the foods that Grandpa loves . . . maybe we’d all be happier.”
“Right. Like serve my chickpea-kale salad with a big, fat steak?” Her tone was laced with sarcasm.
“That actually sounds good to me. Especially if you slathered your salad with blue cheese dressing.”
Margot rolled her eyes. “What’s the point?”
“The point is you’re never going to get Grandpa to eat your kind of food if you keep shoving it at him. You know how stubborn he can be. You weren’t around when Grandma tried to cut back on Grandpa’s salt intake because she was worried about his blood pressure. He just started sneaking salt on the sly, probably consuming more than he would’ve if she’d just left him alone.”
Margot sighed. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”
“So why not compromise?”
“You really think I can teach an old dog new tricks?”
“It doesn’t have to be new tricks, Margot. I remember how Grandma fixed healthy food and he never complained.” Dillon waved her hand at the bed of salad veggies just sprouting. “They always had fresh produce in the summer. And home-preserved fruits and veggies after that. Isn’t that healthy enough?”
“I guess so. But after Mom died, Dad got into some pretty sloppy eating habits. You weren’t around to see it, Dillon. I walked in once to find him eating a TV dinner that he hadn’t even bothered to heat.”
“That’s not surprising. He was depressed and grieving. He’s doing better now. But how about my suggestion, Margot, why not try a compromise?”
“Okay.” She nodded. “I’m willing to try it. But only if you promise to show some enthusiasm for the foods I bring to the table.”
“Fine. Well, as long as it’s not some slimy green drink with undisclosed ingredients.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know how you and Dad simply adore my smoothies.” Margot’s mouth twisted to one side. “Anyway, there’s something else I want to discuss with you, young lady.” She sat down on the swing, patting the spot beside her with a grim expression.
“What’s that?” Dillon suddenly felt like she was ten years old again.
“Housework.”
Dillon sat down. “Yeah?”
“We’ve noticed that you’ve been neglecting it lately.”
“Well, I’ve been pretty busy with my trailer.” Dillon frowned. “Besides that, I’m not living in the house anymore so why should—”
“You’ve completely moved out?” Margot looked doubtful. “You’re living in that trailer 24/7? Never coming into the house at all?”
“Well, I may have to grab a shower here and there on the weekends, but during the week, I’m at the pool so showers aren’t a problem. And I’ll probably use the laundry room here from time to time. And the kitchen. But I always clean up after myself.” She wanted to add “unlike my mother,” but didn’t.
“Right. So are you suggesting I’m in charge of housekeeping now?”
Dillon shrugged. “Well, you said you moved back here to help with Grandpa. Isn’t that part of the deal? You do live in the house. And since I have my own tiny home now . . .” She tipped her head toward the barn. “Well, yeah, I think you should be in charge of housekeeping. It’s fair.”
“What about grocery shopping? Am I in charge of that too? You eat here.”
“I don’t mind picking up a few things when I’m in town. I’ve brought home eggs and milk and bacon and whatever Grandpa asks—”
“Yeah, more foods that aren’t good for him.”
“Are we going there again?” Dillon slowly stood. “Because I’ve got other things—”
“Isn’t it great to have your own little hideaway?” Margot scowled as she stood.
Dillon smiled, perhaps a bit smugly. “Yeah, it is pretty great. Very comfy and cozy. But it still needs work. So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll—”
“Didn’t look like it needed much work to me the other night. What’s left to do? Or is this just your excuse to—?”
“I’m painting the exterior tomorrow. And I still have some prep work to do.” Dillon headed for the gate, which Margot had left open.
“You’re painting that whole trailer? All by yourself?” Margot followed her. “Do you even know how to do something like that?”
“I’ve done the research. I think I can handle it. And I’ve got someone coming to help tomorrow.” Dillon was tempted to keep the news about Jordan to herself, but since it would be obvious by tomorrow, she decided to get it over with. What difference did it make anyway?
“Who’s coming to help?”
“Jordan Atwood.” Dillon waited.
Margot’s brows arched. “Is this some new kind of customer service from the hardware store?”
“No, it’s just a friend helping a friend.”
“Jordan Atwood is your friend?” Margot looked skeptical.
“Sure. He’s a nice guy. I have his nieces in swimming lessons. I’ve gotten to know him and his family a little.”
“And you do know that he’s single, don’t you?” She waved a finger at her. “Are you sure this isn’t something more than just friendship, Dilly-Dilly?”
She let out a long sigh. “He’s just a friend. And it seems that his uncle used to own my trailer so he was curious to see—”
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot the Atwood family’s related to Jack and Rose.�
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“So anyway, Jordan wanted to help out. Probably just wants to make sure I don’t mess it up.” Dillon waited for Margot to go through the gate before securely latching it behind them. “Don’t forget to keep this closed at all times, Margot. Otherwise the deer will invade and devour everything. Grandma would threaten to skin anyone alive who ever dared leave this gate open.”
“Yes, yes, but back to Jordan Atwood. This is very interesting.”
“Really, it’s not that interesting.” Dillon wished she’d kept her mouth shut now.
“Well, Jordan Atwood would be quite a catch, Dilly. And it’s no wonder he’s interested in you.” Margot tweaked an auburn curl. “You’re a very pretty girl. Especially if you took a little better care of yourself.”
“Thanks.” Dillon frowned. “I think.”
“So, anyway, if Jordan’s coming out here to help tomorrow, maybe we should make him a nice lunch.”
“Actually, I’m making him breakfast at seven, but I hadn’t planned on—”
“How about if I make you guys lunch?” Margot smiled sweetly.
“Really?” Dillon felt worried. “Some kind of health food—”
“No, no . . . like I said . . . I’m willing to try your compromise plan. I’m sure I could make you guys a very palatable lunch. Remember when I made macaroni salad and burgers for my planter boys? They didn’t even complain.”
“Probably because they were ravenous.”
Margot gave Dillon a playful punch in the arm. “Anyway, I could serve you guys lunch outside. Make it sort of festive. Maybe under the aspen grove. It should be cool and comfortable there.”
“Why are you being so nice?” Dillon suddenly felt suspicious.
“What? Are you saying I’m not nice? Moi?” Margot touched her chest like she was deeply offended.
Dillon pursed her lips . . . and bit her tongue.
“You might not realize it, Dilly, but I’m actually a very good cook. Don used to adore my cooking until . . .”
“Until?”
“Well, to be honest, he wasn’t a fan of the healthy changes I made. You know, after Mom died.”
“Oh.” Dillon nodded. “How’s old Don doing anyway?”
“I wouldn’t know.” Margot scowled. “But back to your question. Why would I be willing to make a special lunch for you and your handsome painting buddy tomorrow?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Well, I was just thinking . . . if you wanted to help with some housecleaning in exchange, I wouldn’t complain.” Margot’s smile looked sheepish. “You know, I’ve never been too great at housekeeping. Not like you, Dilly-Dilly.”
Dillon considered this. Of course, that was absolutely true. Margot had always been useless at the simplest household chores. Or else just plain lazy. “Fine,” Dillon agreed. “I’ll clean the house if you promise to make a really nice lunch for us tomorrow. And that means something on the barbecue too. And I don’t mean tofu.”
Margot nodded. “Fine. It’s a deal. Do you think you could attack the house today? Dad mentioned it was looking a little shabby this morning. I was actually surprised he even noticed. But he did.”
“Okay. I’ll go do it right now.” Dillon turned to look at Margot. “But one more thing about tomorrow’s lunch. I don’t want it to be just for Jordan and me. That would be weird. I’d like you and Grandpa to join us too. Just a regular casual sort of midday meal, you know? No big deal.”
“Oh, yeah. I know.” Margot winked like she knew better and planned to do exactly as she pleased.
Instead of reacting to Margot’s game, Dillon just headed into the house and went straight into housecleaning mode. As she performed the relatively simple chores—just like her grandma had taught her—she knew she was getting the easy end of this deal. She would have the place looking shipshape in no time. Margot would probably be stuck in the kitchen for several hours tomorrow. And that was fine. It would keep her from meddling. Because the idea of Margot hovering around, making her comments and insinuations that Jordan was there for something more than just plain friendship . . . well, that would be maddening.
CHAPTER
15
Dillon got up early the next morning. Knowing that Jordan would probably want a peek inside of her trailer, she spent a few minutes getting everything perfect. Of course, it didn’t take long to straighten up such a small space. Such a small adorable space! She even took a few minutes to cut some fresh flowers and put them in an old mason jar vase on the dinette. Perfect.
Then she went into the house to start breakfast. She’d already told Grandpa they were having a guest this morning. To her relief, he’d taken the news in stride. No insinuations about romance. And since it was early, she had no worries that Margot would be up.
When Jordan arrived, Grandpa acted perfectly normal, making small talk about the farm and weather and whatnot. And before long, Dillon was dishing up their breakfast.
“It’s nothing special,” she said as she set a generous plate in front of Jordan.
“Not special?” He shook his head. “Bacon and eggs and hotcakes? That is as special as it gets in my book.”
As they ate, Dillon outlined her plan for painting the trailer. “Of course, that’s all based on what I found online,” she finally said. “But it made sense to me.”
“Sounds like a good plan to me.” He forked another hotcake. “To be honest, I took the lazy way out with my trailer. Had it professionally painted.”
“Your trailer?” She got up to refill their coffee cups.
“Yeah, didn’t I mention that I own a vintage trailer too?”
“No.” Dillon stared at him in wonder. “When did you get it?”
“A few years ago, but I never had time to work on it until I moved back here. I’ve been restoring it this past year.”
“What’s your trailer like?”
“It’s an Aloha too. A little older than yours. And not as big or nice.”
“Sounds like trailer envy,” she teased with a good-natured smile.
He grinned. “Yeah, maybe a little. I can’t wait to see the old Oasis.”
“Dillon’s really fixed it up,” Grandpa told him. “I never dreamed it could be that nice.”
“Last time I saw that trailer was on an elk hunting trip,” Jordan said.
“Oh, yeah, I remember those hunting trips. That trailer looked and smelled a whole lot different back in those days.” Grandpa laughed. And suddenly they were rehashing old hunting memories.
“Well, as much as I’d like to keep going down memory lane, Dillon and I probably better get to it.” Jordan pushed out his chair and Dillon started to clear the table.
“You leave that,” Grandpa told her. “You two got your work cut out for you today. I can manage this.”
She thanked him, then led Jordan outside. “My trailer’s parked on the other side of the barn. Under a loafing shed roof.”
“I brought some painting things with me.” He pointed to an old red pickup that looked like it had been carefully restored. “How about if we park it by your trailer?”
“Great.” She followed him, climbing into the cab of the pickup. “This is a really cute truck.”
“Cute, eh?” He patted the dash. “Don’t take it personally, Harvey.”
“Harvey?”
“Yep. Harvey.” The sides of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “Harvey’s a 1960 Chevy and his favorite job is to pull Helen.”
“Helen?”
“Helen’s my trailer. She’s a 1960 too. I named them after my grandparents, Harvey and Helen.”
“I can’t believe you actually have a vintage trailer.”
“Why not? I got Harvey first. Back in high school. But I’d wanted a trailer for quite a while. I guess I was inspired by Uncle Jack. Anyway, I found Helen shortly before I moved back home. She was a wreck. In need of TLC. It’s been fun fixing her up. I’m sure she was in worse shape than your Oasis. Lots of stuff had to be replaced.”
“Yeah, ot
her than being dirty and old and neglected, the Oasis seemed pretty solid.” She wondered if she should name her trailer too. “So I mostly just painted and cleaned.”
“Well, my aunt and uncle took pretty good care of it. I remember as a kid, before Uncle Jack turned it into his hunting trailer, Aunt Rose kept everything in the Oasis in apple-pie order. It was like her little playhouse. Sometimes if she and my uncle got into a spat, she’d go sit in her trailer until he came out and apologized.”
Dillon laughed. “I can just imagine that.” She waved to where the Oasis was parked. “It’s kind of like a she shed. But way better than a shed. It feels like my tiny hideaway.”
“And thar she blows.” Jordan sighed deeply as they got out of the pickup. “Uncle Jack and Aunt Rose’s trailer. I can hardly believe it. It’s like meeting an old friend.” He patted the side of it.
“Well, the exterior, as you can see, is in need of serious help.”
“And help is here.” He ran his hand over the sanded metal. “Looks like you’ve been busy, Dillon. So, can I see inside first?”
“Of course.” She opened the door and then the screen, which she’d painted burnt orange to match the cheerful appliances.
“Wow!” he exclaimed as he climbed the steps. “This place looks better than ever. I can’t believe it’s the same trailer. I love the colors you picked out. My aunt would love them too. Rose’s kitchen had colors similar to this. She loved the Southwest.”
Dillon followed him inside, savoring his comments and compliments as he examined almost every inch of the small space. “So how long did it take for you to do all this?” he asked with an impressed expression that warmed her heart.
“Not that long really. Although I worked practically night and day on it at first. But I wasn’t teaching lessons at the pool yet. And, to be fair, I was very motivated.” She described her previous sleeping arrangement. “So it was well worth my efforts.” She patted the bed. “And I’ve slept like a baby ever since I moved in. I can’t believe how comfortable and quiet it is out here.”
The Happy Camper Page 11