Race hesitates; Logan realizes the core of his announcement is coming. “I was thinking of the ranch. Kaye and I would like to buy it from you.”
He is speaking of Logan’s parents’ horse farm. After his father died, Logan sold off a quarter section to pay the estate taxes; for reasons he cannot quite name, he kept the rest, though he hasn’t visited it for years. The last time he saw it, the house and outbuildings were a wreck, falling down and full of mice. Weeds were growing in the roof gutters.
“We’ve saved the money,” Race says. “We’ll give you a fair price.”
“You can have it for a dollar, as far as I’m concerned. That’s not the issue.” He regards his son for a moment, utterly nonplussed. The request makes no sense to him at all. “Really? This is what the two of you want?”
“It’s not just me and Kaye. The boys love the idea.”
“Race, they’re four years old.”
“That’s not what I meant. They spend half their time in daycare. I see them two weeks out of four if I’m lucky. Boys like that—they need fresh air, room to roam.”
“Trust me, son, country life is much more appealing in the abstract.”
“You turned out fine. Take it as a compliment.”
He feels a growing frustration. “But what will you do out there? You don’t know anything about horses. Even less than I do.”
“We’ve thought about that. We’re planning on starting a vineyard.”
It is a pie-in-the-sky plan if ever he heard one; it has dreamy Kaye written all over it.
“We had the land checked out,” Race continues, “and it’s close to ideal—dry summers, damp winters, the right kind of soil. I have some investors, too. It won’t happen overnight, but in the meantime, Kaye can teach at the township school. She already has an offer. If we’re careful with money, that should tide us over until we’re up and running.”
Gone unspoken, of course, is the underlying criticism: Race wants to be around for his boys, a deep part of their lives, as Logan failed to do for him.
“You’re really certain about this?”
“We are, Dad.”
A brief silence passes as Logan searches for something to say that might dissuade his only child from this ludicrous plan. But Race is a grown man; the land is just sitting there; he has expressed the desire to sacrifice something important in behalf of his family. What can Logan do but agree?
“I guess I can call the lawyer to get the ball rolling,” he concedes.
His son seems surprised; for the first time, it occurs to Logan that Race expected he might say no. “You mean it?”
“You’ve made your case. It’s your life. I can’t argue with it.”
His son looks at him earnestly. “I meant what I said. I want to pay you what it’s worth.”
Logan wonders: What is something like that worth? Nothing. Everything.
“Don’t worry about the money,” he insists. “We’ll figure that out when the time comes.”
The waitress arrives with the bill, which Race, in jocular spirits, insists on paying. Outside, a car is waiting to take him to the airfield. Race thanks his father again, then says, “So I’ll see you Sunday at Mom’s?”
Logan is momentarily confused. He has no idea what his son is talking about. Race senses this.
“The party? For the boys?”
Now Logan remembers: a birthday party for the twins, who are turning five. “Of course,” he says, embarrassed by the lapse.
Race waves this away with a laugh. “It’s fine, Dad. Don’t worry about it.”
The driver is standing by the door. “Captain Miles, I’m afraid we really have to be going.”
Logan and his son shake hands. “Just don’t be late, okay?” Race admonishes him. “The boys are excited to see you.”