Not Quite Modern Farmhouse

Grandma Patel, Neal and Samira, and their eldest son Jay are standing on my front porch.
With…

“Good afternoon, Amy.” Grandma Patel speaks crisply, making me realize that I’ve gone slack-jawed.

I snap my mouth shut before attempting a smile.

“Good afternoon.”

Her smile is bright and sincere. “We’ve brought you something. It’s something I’ve treasured enough to move it around the world from India to England to here. But Neal and Samira really don’t have room for it. I want you to have it.”

“Oh, I…” I glance at Samira. Her expression can only be described as apologetic, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

I turn back to Grandma. “Thank you, but I can’t accept anything so large or valuable.”

“Nonsense.” She steps towards me, towards the door.

I don’t move.

“Mrs. Patel, I can’t.”

“Amy, you can and you will. It’s meant to be. I know it isn’t modern, but it’s very comfortable and will suit any room.”

But will it really?