PotHeadLibrarian: Maggie don’t take down the bird of paradise wallpaper in the foyer!!!! At least bring it to me and come hang it in my house!!!

DreemzComeTru: Just me or is Maggie glowing these days? IS THERE A BABY #MILAS???

ReelTalkSmurf: Can we talk about how cute Cody is?

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June 1 brought with it real summer temperatures and a renewed energy at the Old Campbell Place. Silas’s crew had finished the foundational planting around the house and finished the massive undertaking of clearing brush and nuisance weeds from the remaining acreage. The expanded terrace was being meticulously laid out, mixing in original stone with new like a giant jigsaw puzzle.

The job was enough to keep Bitterroot Landscapes afloat in a down season. Sy would have survived with his crew intact thanks to savings and creativity. But Silas was grateful for Maggie and her big vision for helping even out a tough year.

The pinch of the plant closing was being felt in earnest now as the emergency plan to entice a new buyer had fallen through and the unemployment checks continued to barely cover necessities. Hundreds of neighbors vied for seasonal work with little to no experience. He, like the rest of his family and town, worried about their neighbors. About a mass exodus if they had to move for jobs. About the ones too proud to ask for help.

He didn’t like feeling helpless. The second Maggie’s deposit landed in his bank account, he made a fat donation to the local food bank after his beloved Mama B mentioned that the shelves were getting bare. His family had taught him to save and to share. Because it wasn’t right if he went to bed with a full stomach if his neighbor’s was empty.

The Wrights built bigger tables.

While he scrambled to swap laundry from washer to dryer in the basement, he thought about tables and solutions. He heard his front door open and the sound of his brother’s shiny loafers on the hardwood above. Silas took the stairs two at a time.

“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be,” Michael said, eyeing Sy’s charmingly disheveled living room.

“Haven’t been here much,” Silas confessed. “But Maggie’s place is getting pretty crowded, which is why I invited her to dinner here.”

“And then remembered you haven’t cleaned in a month,” Michael assessed.

It was more like six weeks. But who was counting?

“Which is why I called you. You’re the Black Mr. Clean, and I’m throwing myself on your mercy. I have the sheets in the dryer. What do I do next?”