‘Four hundred, last and final offer.’
‘Just go,’ I plead, turning to climb into our car.
We race to the farmers’ market, passing the Anderson farm on the way. It’s quiet, which means only one thing. Eloise is already at the farmers’ market waiting for an assignment. ‘God damnit,’I mutter the entire way there.
At last, we pull into the parking lot for the farmers’ market. I sprint to the stand that assigns permits even though I don’t see anyone else in the parking lot.Please,I think. I arrive breathless. The coordinator looks up, surprised.
‘Here,’ he says, passing me a permit. ‘Same as last week.’
My shoulders sag. ‘I was really hoping I could get the another spot this week, you know maybe one closer to the front?’
‘It’s first come, first served.’ He shrugs.
‘I know, I just .?.?.’ I trail off. ‘Got it,’ I say finally. I trudge back to the car. We’ll just have to make do. It isn’t the end of the world.
But when I walk onto Main Street to find Eloise in the best spot again, laughing with Hazel like she doesn’t have a care in the world, it feels a lot more like the end of the world. Eloise clocks my arrival and turns towards me. ‘Hey.’ She waves. ‘Looks like you’re stuck at the back again today, huh.’
My fists ball at my sides.
So, this is how she’s going to play it? Affecting my class is one thing, but messing with the Parkers’ business is another.
‘Looks like you’ll be stuck with just your farm,’ I retort.
‘What does that mean?’ Betsy asks. I forgot she was trailing me.
‘Nothing,’ I say quickly. ‘It’s not important.’
But when I glance behind me one more time, Eloise is glaring in my direction.
Two can play at this game, I think to myself as I unpack our supplies. My phone starts pinging with notifications. I scheduled another reel to go out this morning. Three of the pigs are here today. Eloise doesn’t know what she’s gotten herself into.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Eloise
Reasons Fall Is the Perfect Time to Get Your Wisdom Teeth Removed (Technically There Is No Perfect Time, But Fall Is As Good As It Gets)
–Soup season
–Perfect timing to rewatchGilmore Girls
–Furry blankets, cozy cardigans, and thick sweaters are already unpacked
–Darker mornings make sleeping in easier
–Applesauce is fresh
After seeing our stand-off at the farmers’ market, Mom sends me up to the Parkers’ to borrow some eggs. I have to hand it to her, she’s strategic. She sends me early in the morning, claiming our hens didn’t lay enough and she had promised her friend Peggy she would bake her muffins after her knee surgery. Dad rolls his eyes at me across the table—Emily Chickenson always lays more than enough eggs. When I suggest that Dad go Mom stares daggers at me for so long that I simply slink upstairs to change. Arguing with her isn’t worth it. She is insistent on Nick and I ‘patching things up.’
I knock on their door, fidgeting on the doorstep. Mrs. Parker lets me in, ushering me into the kitchen. Only Joe at the table. I try not to look too hard at the steaming cup of coffee and half a piece of toast at the abandoned third place setting.
I find my anger is quite an effective way for me to stop missing him. I can’t seem to stop being mad he went to karaoke with Amie. I don’t care how loud he sang. I don’t care if I told her to ask him out. He went out with her in public and I know it was to get to me, which is completely inappropriate on a lot of levels.
The sun is high in the afternoon sky as I stare in the Parkers’ direction, squinting to see if I can make out who is in the small group of people thinning the apples at the western edge of their farm. Dad shuffles up behind me. He’s been checking on me more often lately.
‘How you doing, champ?’ He claps me on the shoulder.
I blink. ‘Fine,’ I lie. I look back towards the Parkers’ before I return to work. Screw that guy. If only I could forget that he exists.
