LISA
Lily runs up to her grandfather and he picks her up and spins her around. "It's good to see you, kiddo. Back so soon, huh?"
"The lammies," I explain, and we exchange a humorous look. "I said we'd come on the weekend, but she couldn't wait, and I had the afternoon off." It's the first year that Lily's taken a keen interest in animals, although 'interest' is probably an understatement. She's obsessed with her animal farm children's books and loves to watch nature documentaries with me.
"Aha. You liked them, did you?" My father walks through the farmhouse and opens the kitchen door that leads into the backyard. It's not really a farm. Not in the traditional sense, but he has a barn with quite a few chickens and sheep and sells eggs, sheep's yoghurt and cheese at the local farmers market in East Hampton to support his meagre pension. This is where I grew up; a small farm in East Hampton. It's one of the few left after many farmers sold off their land due to the rising value. Farms were bulldozed and turned into villas and hotels, fields that held crops are now manicured yards surrounding stately mansions. The once serene views are obstructed by gates and hedges, but that's life, all part of the growing economy, I suppose.
While my father takes Lily to see the lambs, I turn on the kettle to make us a coffee and smile at the framed picture of my sister, Lily's mother. It's set up like a shrine on the windowsill, with candles burning on either side. They're always lit; my father keeps them going day and night. Even after three years, it hurts just as much to look at her but when I'm here, I let the grief wash over me, rather than fight it. Lily is the greatest comfort my father and I could wish for. She looks like her mother. I look like her mother too, and so Lily looks like me. People assume she's mine and I don't make a habit of telling people she's not. Because really, she is. The same blood runs through our veins. I'm the closest family she has, and I've adopted her. She calls me 'Mom' and loves me like a mother. I love her like a daughter too, more than anyone could ever imagine.
Lily kind of knows I'm not her real mother. When she was old enough to ask who the woman in the picture was, I answered honestly, but she's too young to really understand. Sometimes I find her staring at it quizzically, and in those moments, I'd give anything to know what's going through her mind.
Through the window, I watch Lily and my father open the small barn to let the lambs out. I laugh when I hear her scream in excitement and pick up the two mugs to join them.
"Here." I hand one to my father and perch next to him on the crumbled low wall that surrounds the yard. "It could do with some upkeep here. I can mow the lawn today, and maybe order some bricks to fix this wall?"
"Thank you, honey. But I'll keep the grass long for a while, the sheep like it. And the wall…" He shrugs. "I don't mind that it's a little rugged."
I nod, and we sip our coffee in silence while Lily runs around to stroke the lambs. My father likes everything to stay the same, and that includes scratches in the wallpaper and dents and rips in the furniture. Nothing ever changes; he won't allow it. But as he's not getting any younger and terrified of it being demolished if he sells it, he's decided he wants me to have it. "I'm sorry but I can't take over the farm," I finally say, starting the conversation I've been putting off for months. "I've thought about it like you asked me, and I really can't do it."
"I know you don't have the time and money for the upkeep, sweetheart. I should have never brought it up." My father glances at the house. "It's just hard to imagine it won't stay in the family. So many beautiful memories of your mother and your sister lie between those walls and if I move, I'm worried they'll fade."
"I'll make sure you won't forget." I rub his shoulder and pull him against me. "Look, Dad, I know it won't be easy for you to move, but it's for the best. You're waiting for your hip replacement and even if you fully recover from that, it's just becoming too much for you to maintain."
"Yeah." He lets out a long sigh of frustration. "Lily loves it here, though, and this farm has been in the family for generations. What if she'd want to live here one day?"
"Dad," I try carefully again, "I work long days, I'm saving up for Lily's future, I'll be starting my own business soon and I can't afford staff to take care of the animals on top of my sitter. How about we just get someone over to value it? I'm not saying you should sell it now, but it will give you something to think about."
"You're right, I'll keep it in mind." His eyes light up when one of the lambs starts skipping around Lily, making her shriek in pleasure. She tries to get up, but the lamb jumps up at her, making her tumble over while the other three curiously come closer to see what mischief their brave sister is up to. Lily doesn't mind. In fact, she loves it, and reaches out to stroke it. "How's work?"
"It's busy. I've got some extra hours in because one of our employees is recovering from an accident, and I'm also doing two nights this week." My dad thinks I'm hired to do emergency services for last-minute rentals at night. He would never understand if I told him what I really do.
"You can always bring her over here, you know." His bemused eyes follow Lily, who has now given up on trying to stand upright and is crawling behind the lambs on all fours.
"It's fine, I've already asked Jackie. She's dropping by later by the way. I thought I could cook dinner for the four of us?"
"That would be nice." My father smiles. "Lily and I can get some eggs from the barn and there are at least a dozen ripe tomatoes around the front."
"Don't get up. I'll get them later." I try to stop him, but he's already up, walking toward the cobbled path that leads around the side of the house. When he thinks I'm not watching him, I can see that he's limping.