Harper carefully lifted off the hood of the hive and propped it carefully on the ground. Immediately, she reached for the small dome-topped metal spray can she’d brought out with us.
All I could think of was that it looked like the oil can the Tin Man carried around to grease himself up inThe Wizard of Oz.
“The smoke puts them to sleep.” She sprayed on top of the slat inserts stacked in the box, like files in a filing cabinet. “The guard bees usually roam on top of the frames, so we smoke them right away. The others in the middle of the cluster rarely sting.”
I watched as the small creatures started to settle and still after just a few puffs of the white smoke.
“Now we can check on the honey.”
Harper set the tin down and grabbed another tool that she used to pry up the first frame inside the hive.
“Are you still harvesting?”
“No.” Harper shook her head, examining the screen that was splotched with bees on top of honeycombs. “Sometimes, when it stays warm like this, the hives will continue to produce honey in September and October, but I don’t like to risk taking too much from the hive so that they don’t have enough stores for the winter.”
Satisfied with what she saw, she slid the frame back into place and pulled out the next one, repeating her inspection.
While she worked, she explained the process of harvesting the honey during the summer months. The different kinds of bees found in the hives. How to go about finding the queen.
We made it down the entire row of eight hives and turned back toward the second stretch of tiny towers before Harper fell silent, and I knew what she was thinking about.
I knew because I was thinking about him too.
“So…any new men in your life?” I must be really desperate to avoid talking about Max.
Harper flushed, and her head fell. “I’ve been too busy with the business.”
I was the master of crafting truth-coated excuses, so I easily recognized when I was being given one.
“Too busy? You can’t be too busy to put yourself out there.” It was as close as I’d come to revealing what Max had told me about her crush on Blaze Stevens.
Harper glanced around like she wanted to make sure there was no one else to hear—no one but the bees. “I think it’s for the best. The heart never seems to act rationally,” she said, and smoked the guard bees of the next hive like the white cloud could erase parts of her thoughts too. “So do you want to talk about what happened with Max this morning?”
Speaking of not rational.
“You don’t have to,” she said when I didn’t reply immediately. “I just want you to know you can talk to me. You’re family, Daisy, and not just because you married Max.”
Without warning, tears welled to the surface of my eyes. Even with the netting covering my face, I was afraid she’d see, so I took a few steps into the wildflowers.
Pink and purple and orange and yellow petals dotted my vision, bees flitting between the various blooms before heading back to their hives. Their homes.
Family.
Little sprout started to kick then and seemingly knocked my tears free. I bit into my cheek. God, these hormones were going to be the death of me.
In previous versions of my life, I would’ve kept my conversation with Max and my feelings to myself.
But now…
Now, I had the opportunity to be a part of the family I’d always been jealous of. An opportunity to be close to people who would support me no matter what. Who would help mewithout question, and more importantly, without considering me helpless.
Who would I be if I didn’t take it?
The old Daisy.
The independent coward.
I returned to Harper’s side as she carefully replaced the lid on the first hive.
