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"Geez!" Sam muttered aloud "Why did Gram have to leave this to me?" Sam huffed as she fiddled with and looked at some of Gram's seedbeds and dormant garden plants. She honestly would rather be working with her father, but in his own words, he had things covered. And Gram gave her the choice between this and house chores. Cody was napping, so she couldn't even slack off to play with him.
Finishing that chore, she went to check on the chickens and the goats. Sam liked the goats, as long as they weren't butting into her for attention. After greeting everyone and doing the assigned chores there, she returned the bucket to its' place in the barn. Then, she wandered over to the clothesline. The weather was getting colder, but not so much during the day that Gram would consent to using the dyer. Sam wished she would. She hated the thread deep chill that came with her clothes, but Gram insisted the weather was decent for this time of year, so the clothesline was used. Sam really couldn't complain. The practice saved money.
"Gram? All that's done. What can I do, now?" She stopped short, noting that her husband was eating the a slice of her Grandmother's pie. Said grandmother was nowhere to be seen.
Jake nodded, "Brat."
"Jerk." Sam smiled.
"Brat. Did you tell Jen?" As he spoke, Sam went to the drawer, grabbed a fork, and turned back to the cunning and swift courage, she took a forkful of the chocolate topping.
Sam answered, "Mhm." Though Jake couldn't tell if she was saying yes, or enjoying the pie she'd stolen.
"God, you're such a brat, Sam." There was exasperation in his tone. He ate the best part of the pie.
She quipped, "And you're a jerkface that won't feed me after I was locked in a building all day."
He wasn't having it. "You went to school. There's windows. Get your own pie. There's some."
She considered his request, and took another bite of the pie he wasn't watching, "Hmm. Nope, I'm good."
"Brat." There was humor in his tone.
"Jerkface." Sam replied.
A new voice interjected from the door by the hallway. "Well, now. I'm not sure if I should be relieved nothing's changed between you two, or concerned." Gram came into the kitchen carrying a load of dirty wash. Cody came trampling in behind her, saying "Wsh! Wsh!" His little musical dog was trailing behind him, emitting a sound that should have passed for a song.
"Oh, hey, Gram. Jake wasn't sharing his pie." She explained.
Sam turned back to see Cody climb on Jake's lap and screech "'iE! Yummm!" and slam his little hand into what was left of the pie. He tried to share the pie with Jake before the man in question could stand and get the baby to the sink. Sam cried with laughter as she saw a huge glob of chocolate pie dropped on to Jake's shirt. Cody simply said "'S'hare!" Sam thought karma was sweet indeed.
They were twenty minutes behind schedule, even though Sam had one of Jake's T-shirts in her drawer. She'd stolen it from him when they went to visit SNC and had never given it back. Once in the car, Sam filled Jake in about what Carla had said. "And so she said all that was left for me to do was design a project. And I think I've got it. I'm going to do a photojournalism project on all the horses we've helped and on our methods. I'll call the HARP kids, and maybe do some interviews and book work and put together some sort of documentary."
Jake was concerned, "Sam, all that in a few weeks?"
She replied, "Well, I have all the stuff I want to use, but I just need some more footage of a session or two before you go, a few interviews, and some phone calls. I think it's doable." She continued, "Also, I can always scale it back if I have to. My ideas might even change."
So the rest of the car ride was spent discussing their plans. Jake had gotten the paperwork for their housing application and he'd take it back with him to school. The apartments were furnished sparsely, so they were both glad for the attics of their families and the truck to take their finds back with them. Gram had promised them several items, and Max had donated her old couch to their cause, as well as a mismatched set of pots and pans.
The visit with Mac was going well. He said, "Just wait here a second. I have something for you kids."
Jake called, "Grandpa, sure you don't want to wait 'til Christmas?"
Mac came back and spoke, "No, something tells me I should give you this now. I don't want to give you it at Thanksgiving. But you should have it."
They both looked down at the silver wrapped box. Mac smiled, "Got the folks at the store to wrap it up for me."
Sam spoke, "Jake, you go on and open it."
He did. And when Jake showed Sam the pictures in the frame, she was really touched. It was one of those old fashioned collage frames. Each held a photo of her and Jake together over the years. The first was a photo from the hospital, when Sam had just been born. There were pictures of parties, of small moments between the two of them as they grew up. The last was a photo he must have gotten from Grace. It was one Sam had taken over the last summer, after they'd been married. Sam and Jake were both in the photo. The sun was coming up, and the exposure made it look ethereal. Even in their boots and jeans, it was a dreamy photograph.
There was another photo in a double frame. It was a studio photograph, the sort taken at the tiny shop in Darton that closed a few years ago. Sam looked to be about six. Jake spoke, "I remember that. Our families...got their group photos done on the same day." Combined days out were common as the kids were growing up as Louise and Maxine had been close. Jake continued as his thoughts ended, "They must've done one of us." The spot for the other photo was blank. In it, was a slip of paper. Mac had written, "For the future"
Sam smiled, "Thanks, Grandpa. For our past, and being there."
Mac just smiled. He knew the project he'd been working on for the last few months had come together quite well.
