It had been ten years since Amanda had visited her grandparents at the farm. She’d been barely twenty. Since then she’d seen them in the city most years, but now they were too old to make the trip. Amanda had a long weekend, so she decided a drive to the country was in order.

Her grandparents had gotten old in the couple of years she hadn’t seen them, but they still seemed mentally sharp. “You recognize the place?” her grandma asked. “You recognize us?” her grandfather put in. They both hugged her. “Oh, you, I could squeeze you to death,” her grandma said. “You could squeeze me to death,” her grandfather put in. “Go ahead and do it,” her grandma said. “Put him out of his misery.” “Are you miserable?” Amanda asked. “Not as long as you’re here,” he said.

After lunch her grandparents took a nap and Amanda explored outside. She couldn’t help noticing the huge tree near the shed was gone. Only a stump remained. Later, back in the house, she asked her grandparents about it.

“Had to have it cut down,” Grandfather said. “Lightning got it.”

“That’s sad,” Amanda said.

“Not a bad way to go,” Grandfather said.

“Don’t talk like that,” Amanda admonished him. “I loved that old tree. One time I was fooling around and my hat caught up in the branches. It was too high for me to get down. The tree was too fat to climb. I found this red chair and put it under the tree and tried to reach the hat, but it was just too high. I couldn’t quite get it.”

“We still have the chair,” Grandma said. “Not so red anymore.”

“Rust got it,” Grandpa said. “I’ve been meaning to scrape it and paint it. Not like I don’t have time for that.”

“I could do it,” Amanda offered.

“Oh, child, I don’t even know if we have the paint,” Grandma said.

The next morning Amanda looked in the old shed and found a wire brush. She found paint brushes but no red paint, just a can of dark brown. She set the chair outside near the tree stump and spent much of the morning scraping the rust, then she painted it with the brown paint. It looked good. She cleaned the brushes and went in for lunch.

After lunch while her grandparents napped, she went out to inspect the chair. She tested the paint with her fingertip. Sticky. She had a strange thought. If she sat on the chair now, she’d leave an imprint of her bottom. It was tempting.