“Y’all come on over for a visit, little sis, get away from it all a bit,” Liz persuaded on the phone. I called her for an address I was missing for my save the date cards. Liz had moved away from it all last year. Now she is just under two hours from me, but it seems like it might as well be across the country. She never was raised on a farm nor in all that rural an area. We lived in the suburbs just outside the city. But, she got tired of the traffic and the rat race. She went and bought a big, old property further north all on her own with nothing but the mountains and cow pastures surrounding her.
She even picked up a couple horses for a bargain rate at a local auction and had a little corral and barn built just for them. Her home is humble, a three bedroom decorated tastefully with a big farm house sink in the kitchen, lots of potted herbs in her deep garden windows, and windows everywhere to take in the property. I am proud of her, but a little perplexed. She’s thirty-five, unmarried and has planted herself in the middle of nowhere to work from home, alone. She tends to her horses and tinkers around her property most days when she is not working. I just don’t get it.
“We’ll see, Liz. Todd and I have errands to run this weekend. We need to pick out a few things for the big day.” I countered.
“Ah…well. I miss you. I am so happy for you, Brooke. If there is anything I can do to help let me know,” Liz offered.
“Well…maybe I could get away, just me. Do they have any bridal shops out there yonder,” I asked mockingly.
“Hmmm, I don’t know about that. If so, you’re not exactly going to find a designer collection. You might have to swap the idea of a Vera Wang for a vintage frock from some granny’s attic!” she chided.
As I got off the phone, I realized I missed my big sis. I don’t know how she is not bored out of her mind living there. Don’t get me wrong. With her having to take care of her animals, her property and work from home; she keeps busy. It’s just not my kind of busy. I don’t have much to upkeep in my little apartment with Todd. I keep busy with my boot camp classes at the gym, my staff accountant work, nights out with Todd or the girls, shopping, and now wedding planning. It was decided. I’d drop it all and visit my dear Liz.
Saturday morning around ten, I came down the long dirt path to Liz’s home in my Jetta. It was a perfect fall day and Liz bounded out to greet me with her collie-mix, Daisy. It was beautiful out. The horses, open space, pounces and sloppy kisses from Daisy, and a big squeeze from my big sister clad in overalls. She looked happy, but maybe a little lonely as she held me quite tight. We rode horses, drank wine while our bare feet waded in the cool creek, and picked wildflowers. We broiled salmon, then served it over a bed of fresh spinach with goat cheese, pine nuts, and sundried tomatoes tossed in creamy balsamic dressing. Lunch had been grilled cheese sandwiches with Liz’s homemade tomato bisque in the kitchen. For dinner we sat outside on the back porch picnic table and ate our yummy, big plates of salad and fish in between banter. John Mayer was crooning in our background from Liz’s awesome outdoor speakers set to Bluetooth on her iphone. Liz may live in the country, but Sis hasn’t given up her tech.
“You stay put, Brooke. I got this. Drink your wine. I have your favorite Blue Bell ice cream. Be out in a minute,” Liz ordered as she swept up our plates. I decided to accept her kind gesture as I felt so relaxed in that moment.
As she left I stared out into the horizon as the sun began to make its decent. The old, decorative windmill Liz picked up at the local hardware store was spinning slowly as the gentle, fall wind blew, my hair softly blowing, too. I right then and there got it. This is why she is here. It’s breathtaking. Tears filled my eyes unexpectedly.
“Brooke, you ok?” Liz asked with raised eyebrows.
“Oh, perfect. Just perfect. Love ya, Sis.”
Liz smiled big. “Well, I love you too, Brookey.” With goofy grins we lifted our spoons together and delved into our yummy ice cream.
Then we watched the sunset’s finale and the old windmill sway in silent revelry.