Before heading out, I made sure to grab one of the booster seats Mom purchased the weekend the twins arrived in town. This little girl was precious cargo, and I wanted to make sure she was safe. Some of these older trucks weren’t equipped with seatbelts, but when Dad and I restored her, we made sure to have them added. Safety first.
After a bit of struggling and flipping through the manual, I had the seat installed on the passenger side and an ecstatic little girl buckled in. She was in awe of the truck and asked a million questions during our drive to the center of town. By the time I parked behind our stand, I knew I was going to have to purchase two booster seats for the truck. Molly would love it just as much as her sister did.
As I helped her jump down, I slid an oversized Sunny Brook Farm shirt over her head and onto her body. The material reached her knees, and we both ended up giggling. I twisted the ends of the material into a knot in the back and tucked it under, the way I had when I was little. At least now it looked more like a shirt and less like a dress.
We waved at the other stand owners as they began arriving. My family had a prime spot, smack-dab in the middle, across from the main entrance. My great-great grandmother had been one of the founders of Ashfield’s farmer’s market, so it only made sense.
After setting up the canopy and making sure I turned the ringer on my phone up as high as it could go, I tried to dial Nate one last time and even called the bed-and-breakfast’s main line, but there was still no response.
“All right, buttercup, ready to help me set up and sell some stuff?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I cringed at the title. I was too young to be called ma’am. I mumbled to myself that it was just good manners as I pulled the canopy out of the back of the truck and set it up. Even at seven in the morning, the temperature was rising.
“Is Daddy going to be mad at me?”
Hefting the first crate out of the truck, I replied calmly, “Well, I know he’s going to be a little crazy when he can’t find you. But once he realizes you’re safe, everything will be fine. But I’m sure he’s spoken to you two before about wandering off. Something terrible could happen, and none of us want that.”
She remained silent as I pulled out more crates and set up the stand a certain way. This was my favorite part—adding a bit of flare and design to something so simple. It’s what drove me to want to open a cake shop. I had the same mentality about a simple cake flavor being spruced up by something intricate on the outside. Of course, I also liked to add a few unexpected things inside my cakes too, like jelly or pastry cream.
Just thinking about cakes gave me an idea for my afternoon. I needed to bake. That was the only thing I could think of to get out of my Nate fixation. I tended to hyper-focus when I was baking.
By the time the first customers started arriving, Eloise already helped herself to a few carrots and learned the art of pickling from the stand next to mine. She and Molly were going to have to try their hand at it later.
After the second customer Eloise charmed into a purchase, I decided I would bring the girls every weekend if that meant I didn’t need to sweet talk anyone. Our farmer’s market brought in people all over Eastern Tennessee.
As I was bagging another customer’s selection, Eloise piped up. “What did you want to be when you growed up? Did you want to be a farmer?”
Chuckling, I replied, “No. I’m not a farmer. I just help out my family. I actually plan to open a cake shop in town.”
“Oh, cake. I love cake.” Eloise made sure to emphasize the word love as her eyes rolled toward the back of her head.
“So do I.”
“Daddy doesn’t like us to eat it. Lots of sugar.”
“Well, he’s probably right. But there are alternatives to using sugar.”
“What’s an alt… altnerative?”
“Alternative. It means substitute. Like switching one thing out for another.”
“Oh.”
I paused and waited for her to ask for examples, but as usual, Eloise surprised me and remained quiet.
“And to answer your first question. When I was little, I wanted to grow up and be a dancer.”
Enthusiastically, she informed me she and Molly were dancers. I remembered that being mentioned when they arrived. I’d have to check in with my old dance teacher and see if she was still offering classes.
Opening the task tab on my phone, I made a reminder. There were still no missed calls, and my worry was elevating to new proportions.
Off in the distance, I heard my name shouted above all the sounds of the market. Tami fervently ran in my direction. Her curly hair bounced with each stride as her rainbow-colored crinoline skirt sashayed between her legs.
Tami always danced to the beat of her own drum, and her sense of fashion was no exception. I was still shocked that she took a job that required her to wear a uniform. I can’t imagine what she would have said had she seen Nate in the market wearing his three-piece suit last Saturday.
I can’t believe he’s only been here a week.
