The doctor wanted him to stop lifting heavy buckets.
Dad interpreted this as a recommendation to buy smaller buckets.
At six, headlights appeared.
One pickup.
Then another.
Then a car.
Then more.
People stepped into the pale morning carrying gloves, seedlings and tools.
Claire arrived with Noah.
Elena brought Sophie.
Brent came through the side gate holding coffee.
Dad stood near the first row.
I watched him greet everyone.
A quiet nod.
A word.
A joke.
Nothing grand.
Then a vehicle I did not recognize stopped along the road.
An old green sedan.
A woman stepped out.
Perhaps sixty.
She remained beside the car, staring at the sign.
Something about her expression made me walk toward her.
“Can I help you?”
She looked toward Dad.
“Is that Gustav Lindqvist?”
“Yes.”
She pressed her lips together.
“My name is Diane Bell.”
Bell.
I glanced toward Anna.
Anna had gone completely still.
