The Last Farm: A novel of a farm family in the era of economic development by J.A. Stein

Author:J.A. Stein [Stein, J.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: J.A. Stein Publishing
Published: 2024-04-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

The realtor’s office was just in town, and the woman behind the desk had a smile as bright and alert as Grace’s had been. She wasn’t much younger than Bill, with her grey hair pulled back in a youthful ponytail. She rose as he came in and extended her hand.

“I’m glad you could come, Mr. Fogel,” she said brightly.

They shook hands. Hers was lotiony soft; Grace had had callouses to rival his own. Pap gritted his teeth to focus.

“Now what can I help you with today? What are you in the market for?” she asked, oblivious to his inner thoughts.

Bill settled into the chair next to her, a large computer screen and a book of flyers in plastic sleeves in front of them. He wondered if he shouldn’t have worn a clean change of clothes, instead of coming in directly from the farm. Hopefully his deodorant was still working. Old Spice hadn’t let him down in over sixty years.

“Ms. Wiley, I’m looking for a small place to retire. Ideally on a lake somewhere.”

“Are you a fisherman, Mr. Fogel?” She smiled. She had very good teeth. Maybe a little too much lipstick.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, then, your best bet is someplace up on Lake Wallenpaupack. It’s up towards the Poconos. Prime location. Five thousand seven hundred acres of water. Some of the best bass fishing around here. And we happen to have several lake houses for sale. What’s your budget?”

“I’m not sure yet…” Bill furrowed his brow. “Don’t you have anything closer than the Poconos? Awful lot of touristy people up there.”

Ms. Wiley scrolled through her listings, then hit a few keys. “Well, there’s always Lake Wynonah. That’s about as close as you can get. Now that’s a gated community, which frankly, you might love. Quiet, nice lake…”

“I’m not sure I want to be in a gated community.” How would his family drop by unannounced? Besides, he didn’t like rules telling him what to do with his land. “If there’s nothing closer, what about something along a river? I like fishin’ for trout, too.”

Ms. Wiley’s face lit up. “I’ve got just the place then. But it is a little bit higher priced. Gorgeous house on fifty acres. I suppose that’s still downsizing, for a farmer like you.” She laughed.

The realtor made a final click, and a gorgeous house filled the computer screen. She leaned back in her chair, hands folded, gauging his reaction.

Bill didn’t know what to think. He leaned towards the screen. The house was stunning, with board and baton siding in a dark brown, a metal roof, and big windows. But what really got him was the manicured landscaping. There wasn’t an inch of mud or twig out of place. Whoever was selling this place had really wanted to take care of it. Even the trees in the big lawn were trimmed. He reached for the mouse and clicked ahead. Every exterior shot was immaculate, though already he suspected the house was double the size of the one he was in now.

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