Bank on it

 She walked slowly down the dirt driveway to the mailbox as the postal worker waved. She waved back and smiled a smile nobody would see. Junk mail and a utility bill were all for today, so she put them in the pocket of her apron and started the long walk back home. 

What would this day bring, she asked herself, looking up at the sky, which was turning gray. Maybe some rain, she said out loud. We can use a good soaking you can bank on that.

Back in her kitchen, she sat down with a mountain of snap peas that needed tending and a batch of biscuits that wouldn't make themselves. Her grandson was coming for dinner tonight, so she wanted to make all his favorites, something she had not done in a while.

With everything in the kitchen under control, she got herself ready, putting on that new dress she had splurged on a while back. Her granddaughter's christening, if she remembered right.

A quick bit of dusting and some fresh wildflowers put in her favorite vase, and she was ready.

He arrived right on time with a box of chocolate-covered cherries, her favorite. She hugged him, amazed at how he had grown since their last visit. They ate dinner, talking about his life in the city, but not much about her, as her life hadn't changed in too many years to count.

Time flew, and he said he had to get back home, thanking her for the dinner and all his favorites and, of course, the leftovers she packed for him.

She stood on the porch waving until he was out of sight, wondering how long it would take for him to eat another biscuit. She got started on the dishes, even though he offered to help more than once, but she told him it gave her something to do once he left.

Sometime late into the night, she awoke to rain pounding on the roof, a sound she had always liked. Maybe a good soaking, she said out loud. We do need it, and you can bank on that.

Mike 2025