Analyse
Do I have a choice?
Anna
Absolutely not.
Mariana
We’re bringing the flannel. Don’t fight it.
Analyse
Are the guys coming along for this kidnapping?
Mariana
Seba is. Andres said only if there’s hot cider and zero photoobligations.
Anna
Which means he’s coming and we’re forcing him into a leaf pile…and taking loads of pictures.
Mariana
Tell your man to get his ass up and ready to go, too.
I smile despite myself. My man. If they only knew. But it’s easier this way. Let them believe it’s real. I toss my phone onto the bed, pull on a sweater, and grab a flannel for Maya.
Pumpkins await.
The pumpkin patch is about twenty minutes outside of town, tucked behind a farmstand that sells cinnamon donuts, fresh honey, and apple cider so good that you’ll never want to buy the store-bought stuff ever again.
By the time we pull up, Anna’s already texting where to meet her, and Mariana is sending selfies from between two hay bales. After I unhook her from her booster seat, Maya practically launches herself out of the car.
“Mami, can we get apple cider and donuts?” she asks, eyes wide, curls bouncing.
“Let’s start with one,” I say, grabbing our bag from the back seat. “Then we’ll negotiate.”
She grins, knowing she’ll win in the end.
We spot the girls near a row of wagons lined up for hayrides. Anna’s wearing herit’s fall y’allsweatshirt, and Mariana’s already clutching a latte.
“Oh thank God,” Anna says when she sees us. “I was starting to think you were bailing and I was going to have to find a new best friend in the maze.”
“Tempting,” I say. “But I figured you’d haunt me until I gavein.”
“Correct,” Mariana adds. “Also, you look cute. Love the boots.”
I glance down at the ones I only wear this time of the year. “Thanks. They’re my ‘pretend I’m not exhausted’ boots.”
Maya’s already tugging at my hand. “Can we go pick pumpkins now?”
“Let’s go!” Mariana says, looping her arm through Maya’s. “We’re finding you the biggest pumpkin here.”
We make our way into the field, winding between rows of round, lopsided, dirt-covered pumpkins. Maya darts ahead, inspecting each one, wanting the perfect pumpkins for our front porch. She mentioned wanting to find white pumpkins as well. I hope she finds exactly what she wants.
Mariana trails beside her, nodding seriously every time Maya announces, “This one’s almost perfect, but not quite.”
