Follow-up to the original story. You don't have to have read the original 2 part story, or "Dillon" but you can ;)
All characters fucking around with their family are aged 18 or over. So, as Lucas' grandma Margaret would tell you, "Don't get you're panties in an uproar, or up your butt crack, over it."
**Note of Warning** There is some language that some may find offensive. It's not to be taken as such, it's just the language of the times. (I've even toned it down from what was going on in my mind.) Let's just say...Everyone had a good time, and no one was offended with the language as it was happening. Suffice to say Margaret does NOT talk like this today, like she did back then, unless the other person wants her to, because she's always happy to oblige. ;)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lucas had come home for his grandfather's funeral. He had a heart attack back in Florida, but Lucas' grandmother Margaret insisted on bringing his body back home to the farm. The whole family had gotten up to speak at the funeral, Dillon, who had flown in with Lucas from Oregon, as the youngest, was last to speak. "Grandpa always had advise to give," she said with tears falling down her freckled cheeks. "I learned a lot about life from my grandpa. I will miss your stories, your smile, and your laugh. But, most of all I will miss your friendship." She looked up at everyone and then at her grandmother, "You were lucky grandma, to have had a man like grandpa. I hope I find love like yours someday."
The funeral ended and the sons lowered the casket into the ground. The family had their own cemetery plot on the farm. Both of Lucas' great grandparents, who started the farm, were there, and now all 12 of their children were there with their spouses. Lucas looked at the head stone and saw the names; Harold and Margaret. One day Lucas would be here to see his grandma join her husband. Margaret, who stood next to Lucas, said in a soft voice, "Bye Harry, see ya later." Then she poked Lucas in the side with her elbow, "But not too soon."
Lucas laughed for the first time in days. No one could change a mood like his grandma could. He looked down at her and she winked at him. "Grandma, you're incorrigible."
"Well Lucas it runs in the family," and she reached up to pat him gently on the cheek, and then turned to walk away. Only she then pat him on his ass, "Quite a few things run in this family."
~~~~~~
Three days later Margaret approached Lucas who was sitting on the porch swing. She sat down next to him and put her hand on his thigh and patted it. "Lucas you have the summer off doncha?"
"Yes, grandma, I have until mid-September. Why?"
"Could I talk you into comin' back to Florida with me, and help go through your grandfather's things? I would pay your way of course."
"Sure thing grandma. I'd be happy to help you."
~~~~~~
(Another three days later; a different front porch.)
Lucas looked up and reached for the glass of iced tea his grandmother had just brought out to him. "Thank you grandma," he told her.
"We can start on things in a couple days Lucas. No since in hurryin', it ain't goin' nowhere." Margaret sat in the rocker that was obviously hers. For one it was smaller than the one Lucas sat in; For sure it had belonged to his grandfather. But Margaret's was painted pink and had a seat cushion that was the face of Groucho Marx with a cigar in his mouth. She wiggled her butt as she sat and giggled as she commented, "Free mustache ride."
Lucas nearly blew the iced tea he just drank out of his nose laughing. "Oh, my god, grandma!"
"What?" She replied with feigned innocence. Then she grinned, "I'm sure if you grew a mustache someone would want a free ride. I might ask for one myself."
Lucas laughed, "I love you grandma, but you just lost grandpa, and now your flirting with your grandson. Do I need to worry about you?"
"Oh heaven's no Lucas. I'm just a rufflin' your feathers. Unless you really want to give your old grandmother a mustache ride? I could wait for you to grow one."
"Grandma, what would grandpa say about that if he was here?"
"Your grandfather had a nice mustache once. Gave me plenty a good ride on it too. That's how I came to fall in love with him you know."
"Because you sat on his face?"
"Well, yeah. Along with that huge pecker he had. I was really young, just turned 18, and never have I ever had a bigger cock than that day. Let me tell ya all about how we got together...."
~~~~~~
"Harold, bring me that bigger hammer," Jackson said.
"Comin' right up Mr Sampson." Harold brought the requested hammer to the huge black man who took it and began hammering on the red hot piece of iron. Jackson Samson was an old time blacksmith, and Harold, who had just turned 20, has been apprenticed with him since he was 16. Harold's father thought that the skill would come in handy some day on the farm, and he had been right. Nothing beats free labor on a farm because it's your son doing the labor.
"Harold," Jackson said as he put the iron in a bucket of water with a loud hiss and steam. "I've taught you ever thing I know, why are you still coming around here for?"
"I don't rightly know Mr Sampson." Harold told him honestly. "I just enjoy the work, and the company I guess."
Jackson laughed, "Well, I also enjoy the company son. But you're the youngest of your father's brood so you're gonna have to eventually work on the farm full time."
"I've already talked to my pa about that. He said I can start at the thaw. That won't be for another 3 or so weeks."
"Alright, but until then how about you start calling me Jackson instead of Mr Sampson. Like I said, I've taught you all I can. We are on even footing now. No need for those terms between friends."
He held out his big black calloused hand and Harold took it in his. "I'd like that Jackson. To be able to call you my friend."
The door opened up and a man and three boys came in followed by a young woman. Harold knew the man instantly, "Good day uncle Richard."
"Oh, Harold. Good day to you too son." Harold's uncle was younger than his father and therefor as the youngest he was closest in age to his cousins than his siblings were. "Jackson, are those nails and fence brackets done that I asked for?"
"Yes sir, Harold please go in the back and get the crates I have set aside for your uncle." Jackson took off the heavy glove he wore on his left hand and moved over to the counter. "That's going to be $15.00 for it all. Harold actually did all of the nails himself and half of the brackets."
"Best idea my brother ever had setting him up with you here Jackson."
"He's done with being here. I've taught him all I can. He'll be working on the farm with you come thaw he says."
"We got fences to mend, but everything else is waiting until thaw," the oldest of the boys said.
Harold came back and set the crate down on the counter. "Those are the nails, there are two more bigger ones that hold the brackets."
"Thomas," his uncle told his older cousin. "Go and help him fetch the others."
"Yes, pa." Thomas said.
When they returned with the two other crates they were walking out with the first one holding the nails. They sat the crates in the back of the truck and Thomas closed up the tailgate. "Thank you Harold," Richard told him. "Jackson told me how you made most of these."
"Yes, sir, I guess I did." Harold replied.
"Come on boys, let's get these back." He then turned to his daughter, "Margaret, do you have the list your mother gave you?"