“There are some baby carrots and snap peas. Ranch dressing for dipping. I’d be happy to pull something together for you.”
“Sold.” Liz carefully made her way to the table while I stayed close at her side. When she was safely there, I went to the fridge to gather the items for her snack.
“How’s it been going here? Have you and Brady had any time to do anything together?”
I had no idea what to tell her. If I told her that Brady was mad at me and wouldn’t say why, he’d get home and that would be the first thing she’d ask him. That would not help my cause at all.
“Uh, it’s going fine. He’s really busy.” I opened the bottle of ranch dressing and poured a generous amount into a small bowl. “I went to his game last Friday night. That was really something. And I helped him with a paper on the Vikings. Not the football team.” I laughed lightly and she merely smiled. I brought the bowl to her and the bags of ready-to-eat baby carrots and snap peas.
“Thanks. Are you two getting along okay?”
The way she said it suggested to me that she already knew we weren’t. She and Brady had talked on the phone the day he played paintball with his friends. Liz had probably asked him the same thing and picked up on the vibes he was putting out.
I could not lie to her. “It’s been a little different. He’s older than the last time I was here. And I wasn’t in a caretaking role then.”
She frowned as she crunched a dipped carrot, dissatisfied with my answer, so after a moment, I added, “He knows one big reason Dad asked me out here was to make sure he didn’t quit the team while you guys were gone. That has kind of had him on his guard.”
She nodded, still quiet.
“For what it’s worth,” I added, “he doesn’t actually have any plans to do that. At least that’s what he told me.” Now I was just babbling.
“What did he tell you?” Liz said, emotionless.
“Uh, that he doesn’t have any plans to quit the team. He likes playing football. But he doesn’t like Dad pressuring him about it all the time. I told him he should tell Dad that.”
“What else did he say?”
“About what?”
Liz dipped a snap pea in the dressing and swirled it around. “Nothing. Never mind.”
But I knew she was holding back—though whether Brady had said something to her directly or she’d just figured out stuff on her own, I wasn’t sure.
“Say,” she blurted, and I could see we were done talking about Brady. “Duke told me you’ve been working on a surprise for me in the backyard.”
“I have.”
“Can I see it?”
“Sure. I think it’s visible through the dining room window.”
“That wouldn’t be the same. I want to see it from outside.”
I looked down at her ankle. “Are you sure you want to try? Looking out through a window would be a lot easier than walking across pebbles using a crutch.”
She just waved away my concerns. “I’d rather do it now before the painkiller wears off.”
“If you say so.”
We finished our snack, and while I put her dish in the sink, Liz made her way slowly to the patio doors. Frisco began to happily bark, as if the only reason we were going into the backyard was to play with him.
I unlocked the door and swung it wide so that Liz could pass easily through.
“I wanted to do something while I was here, especially during the hours Brady was in school,” I said as we slowly crossed the patio. “So I asked him if he knew of any projects around the house that you guys hadn’t gotten to yet. He mentioned you’ve been wanting a container garden.”
When we rounded the corner and the containers came into full view, Liz sucked in her breath.
For a moment I thought she hated them. But when she turned to face me, I could see that amazement, not disappointment, shone on her face.
“They’re perfect! This is exactly what I wanted. How did you figure out how to do it?”
With relief I told her about the plans I had found on the Internet and of my decision not to put the containers on an automatic watering system.
“I thought you would enjoy the experience more if you didn’t have a timer stealing away the tending of your garden.”
She turned to me and grinned. “Nicely put. But Duke will probably want to automate it.”
“Don’t let him.”
Liz laughed.
“I’m serious. Part of the reward of being a steward of something is the joy of taking care of it.”
“A steward?”
“Ya. A steward. God is the one who gives us the things we enjoy while we’re here. We’re stewards of those blessings. You know, like managers.”
“Is that the Amish way of looking at it?”
I smiled. “Well, it’s my way. And the way of every Amish person I know.”