Left Field Love by C.W. Farnsworth

Author:C.W. Farnsworth [Farnsworth, C.W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: C.W. Farnsworth LLC
Published: 2023-06-07T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

LENNON

“Lennon!” There’s an urgency in Gramps’s voice that makes me abandon Gallie in the cross-ties and sprint out of the stallions’ barn, grooming brush still in hand.

Gramps is standing out on the front porch of the farmhouse, leaning against one post that has the important task of keeping the railing upright. My heart rate slows when I see he’s standing and smiling. Relief swamps me.

It’s not until I reach the bottom stair and spot the white piece of paper he’s holding that I regret running over so quickly.

Some more time to figure out what I’m going to say to him about this would be nice. Although, I’ve had a week to come up with the words to tell the other person I really need to show that paper to—or at least share its contents with—and I’ve still got nothing. A few extra seconds now probably wouldn’t accomplish a whole lot.

“You got in?” Gramps shakes the sheet of paper in front of me, as though I didn’t memorize every word it says the day it arrived.

“Yeah, I did,” I confirm unnecessarily. I can read the bold Congratulations! from here.

Gramps scans my face. “Look a little less enthused, huh?”

“Gramps…”

I weigh how to play this. Caleb’s going to be a tougher conversation for several reasons, but at least I can be honest with him about exactly how worried I am to leave Gramps alone. Telling that to my grandfather’s face is a whole other matter. Even if stubbornness isn’t hereditary, I most certainly inherited it from him.

“You’re going, Lennie.”

“And how are you going to take care of the farm by yourself?” I challenge.

“I’ll figure something out.”

I scoff. “That’s what you always say. I’m not going to leave you here when I’m perfectly capable of helping out. RCC’s been fine for the past few years. One more won’t make any difference.”

“You belong at a school with more than one faculty member in the journalism department, Lennon,” Gramps informs me. “Where you couldn’t get A’s in your sleep.”

“I work hard for those A’s,” I reply, scowling.

Gramps smiles. “I know you do, darling. But you deserve to be at a college where everyone else in your classes are, too.”

I kind of regret telling him about the humorous anecdotes involving some slackers who attend Richardson Community College with me now.

“I’m happy at Richardson,” I insist.

“Then why did you apply to Clarkson?”

I look away from his knowing gaze. “You know why.”

“What did Caleb say?”

“I haven’t told him yet,” I admit. “That I got in, at least. I told him I applied. Honestly, I didn’t think there was a real chance I’d get in. They hardly ever accept senior year transfers.”

And that’s exactly why I applied. A gesture I wouldn’t have to follow through on. Except now, I could.

“Why haven’t you told him?”

I scoff. “Stop asking me questions you already know the answers to.”

“Because you know he’s going to be thrilled about it?”

I keep studying the peeling paint of the porch. “Plenty of couples make long distance work. We see each other when we can.

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