Will He Ever Go Home?

A couple years ago Rick bought some heifers from a guy in another state. The guy was an older man, never married, and his cows were his life. He lived alone and was your typical old bachelor, with a hillbilly flavor. He actually had tears in his eyes when we loaded the heifers and drove them away. He was a talker though and since Rick is also (he was voted most talkative in his senior class and forty years hasn't changed anything), they had many conversations in the following months via the telephone. He still owned some heifers and last fall he told Rick that the place they were staying weren't taking good care of them, so Rick says - "what the heck, bring them here and we'll take care of them." So he did. However, he came along with them last fall to make sure they had a good ride and got settled in. Rick said he was going to stay a couple days. When he came through the door with four suitcases, I looked at Rick and mouthed "How long?!" Two and a half l-o-o-o-o-o-o-ng weeks later, he finally decided he should head for home. Rick and he continued to have phone conversations on and off, and earlier this month he showed up on our doorstep again to check out his girls. He only had two suitcases this time, so I thought that was an improvement. A couple days went by and still he was here. Every night when he came through the door he would say "What's for dinner?" Then I would hear comments like "I don't know if I can eat that, if it's tough my teeth aren't very good." or "I never eat that" or "Did you ever try doing it this way?" A week went by, and still he was here. The girls at work asked me everyday if the hillbilly was still here and then they laughed. My eyes went to the top of the refrigerator every morning when I got up and night when I got home to see if his notebooks were still there where he had put them. I called Rick every afternoon and asked if he had good news, but each day he said he was still here.

My washer is broke and he commented he was running out of clothes, so I thought that was a good thing. He'd have to go home. But no - he went to the laundermat and washed them - so he had a whole clean fresh supply. He commented he had to go home mid-week. Wednesday came and went, Thursday came and went, Friday, Saturday..... Finally this morning, Sunday, I heard him moving around and when I got up, his truck was gone and his books were finally gone off the refrigerator. Hurrah! I did a little dance around the kitchen! Then I noticed the note on the table. As I read it, my hands came up to my face and my mouth opened into a big round O and I must have looked like that kid in 'Home Alone'. The note read: "Dear Mrs. R, Thanks for everything. See you in a couple weeks."