Homespun Christmas. Aimee Thurlo
handed it to Daniel. “Just put whatever you bring on this.”
“There was a time when I would have argued with you....”
“No, this is on my tab. It’s a thank-you Wish I could do more.”
“No need, buddy.” Daniel headed out to his truck. “Give me about an hour.”
Joshua watched him leave. That card was his only credit these days. It had to last until he was back on his feet again, and he had no idea how long that would take.
He’d sent out a lot of résumés and his application for a license in New Mexico, but he’d yet to get an interview in or out of state. He guessed that some employers didn’t want to hire a guy who’d failed to hang on to his own company. No matter, he’d figure something out. Joshua knew he was a good architect. All he needed was the chance to prove himself.
He walked around the house for a while, remembering old times, like reading on the sofa while his father snoozed in his recliner, supposedly watching the baseball game. But memories belonged in the past.
This place had been fine for his dad, but it would never be enough for him. He still wanted it all—success, and more importantly, the kind of respect it commanded. For him, it wasn’t about money, it was about recognition for his work and achieving the American Dream.
No one in his family had even come close to that elusive brass ring, but someday he’d claim it. As far as he was concerned, it was meant to be.
* * *
JOSHUA EASED HIMSELF onto the back porch bench beside Daniel and took a long pull of a cold one.
“I know you’re planning to fix up the house, but be careful not to waste your money,” Daniel said, chewing on his after-dinner toothpick, staring at the grazing sheep across the way. “Houses are on sale around here for practically nothing and still no one’s buying. We may go down the same road as Soledad.”
“The base shut down there, right?” Joshua asked, wondering what he’d do if he couldn’t sell the house. This was going to be seed money to start up a new business. Finances could get tough in a hurry and he was living on a shoestring as it was. A businessman with lousy credit didn’t have much of a future. Even potential employers might shy away.
“Yeah. It’s all gone. Used to be a nice little town, too. Now, without the Air Force test facilities, it’s nothing more than empty homes, a natural gas field and a pumping station. Not more than fifty people left. That could happen here, too.”
“Well, I need to keep busy,” Joshua said, knowing that he couldn’t afford to sit around and wait for things to happen. “I figure I’ll start by cleaning the place from the ground up and giving it a fresh coat of paint. Like you suggested—sweat equity.”
“Is it tough for you? I mean, being here at the house without your dad around?”
Joshua shrugged. “It’s not the memories that bother me most. It’s the feeling that I’m back to square one. I never thought I’d return empty-handed.”
“Maybe you took a wrong turn somewhere and destiny wants you to start over—here. Ever consider that?”
“You sound like Grandma Medeiros,” Joshua said. Daniel’s grandmother.
“Her words exactly.” He reached for his jacket and fished out the keys to his truck. “I’d better get going. I’ve got to help her close up the store.”
Joshua set his beer on the side table. “Your grandma’s still working? She’s got to be...what? Close to eighty, if I figure it right.”
“Seventy-seven, and she still works a forty-hour week to supplement her social security. I can’t get her to slow down. I swear she’s got more energy than I do.”
Joshua walked Daniel to his truck, which was parked behind the rental in the driveway. “Feel free to come by anytime, Dan. It was good to shoot the bull with you again.”
After his old friend drove off, Joshua wandered to the woodworking shed he and his dad had built—a concession to the workshop/garage that remained a faded drawing in his dad’s file cabinet.
Memories crowded in around him as he looked up at his own first project, a small sign that hung over the doorway. He’d used a woodburning set to carve out the words Adam and Joshua Nez in a piece of scrap pine.
He stepped inside and turned on the shop light. As a cloud of dust settled, his gaze fell on the yellowed designs tacked to the wall. The one in the corner was his own scale drawing for a treadle spinning wheel he’d worked at in secret for nearly six months. He’d wanted to give it to Myka for graduation, but he’d run out of materials and it had remained unfinished by the time he’d left for college.
He glanced around for the wheel, wondering if his dad had kept it. Adam almost never threw things like that out, so chances were it was still here someplace, maybe taken apart and stored in a box. Perhaps now, with everything in the world just a mouse click away, he could get the flyer assembly and bearings he needed on the internet.
Out of curiosity, he decided to look inside the big storage cabinets first, but to open them, he’d need to find the keys to the padlocks. All he’d found so far was the key to the shed itself.
He was rummaging through the workbench drawers when he heard a soft knock behind him.
Myka stood there, holding something. “I don’t mean to intrude, Josh. I know you’re busy.”
“Come in. It’s been a long time since I’ve set foot inside this workshop, and I’m trying to remember where everything is.”
“Your dad said you spent the night here once.”
“Yeah, I fell asleep waiting for some varnish to dry,” he said, chuckling. He’d been working on her spinning wheel.
She looked up at the spinning wheel design tacked to the wall. “Cool. Was that one of your dad’s projects?”
“Something like that,” he said but didn’t elaborate. She was standing in the place where he’d first fantasized about kissing her.
“Life was so much simpler when we were kids, wasn’t it?” she mused. “I sometimes wish we could turn back time.”
“I can’t say I do. I don’t care much for the kid I used to be,” he said, admiring the way she looked in the glow of the overhead light.
“Any sign of Bear yet?” she asked.
“The only animals I’ve spotted are lizards and a bunch of daddy longlegs spiders on Dad’s shelves,” he said. “I kept Bear’s dog bed and dishes, though. You’ll need those if he shows up again.”
“Thanks. I just wish he’d come back.”
“He found his way here once before,” he said.
“That sounds like something your dad would say.”
He nodded. “Navajo teach that everything is connected and forms a pattern. We all have a place within that, the dog included.”
She avoided his gaze, stepping outside. “He can jump the fence or dig under, so if it’s okay, I’ll be walking around the back of your property from time to time looking for Bear.”
“You don’t need permission, Myka. You’re always welcome.”
“Thanks.” She reached into her pocket. “There’s something I should return to you. Your dad gave me his extra set of house and truck keys when you went off to college.” She tossed them to him through the open door.
He caught them with one hand. As he did, he saw the inscribed cedar stick attached to the key ring. “I made this for Dad in eighth grade shop. I didn’t realize he still had it.”
“You were his son. He was proud of you. You could have chosen a career as a sheepherder and he would have bragged about you to his