"Wow, this hasn't changed at all," he says.
"Nothing much changes around here. Everything's functional."
"You say that like it's a bad thing. Isn't that how working farms are supposed to be?"
I shrug. "Yeah, I guess. It doesn't matter. This is going to be Miles's kingdom one day anyway."
"I prefer your forest," he says. "It's…cleaner."
I laugh. "I think you've hit the nail on the head. The forest is as organic as it can be. I clear it up for easy access and to prevent forest fires in the summer. I like sitting on the porch of the cabin and looking out to the undisturbed trees. Here, everything within walking range is used for something."
I open the gate to the garden and let Jud through before closing it again because Mom lets the chickens roam free.
"The asparagus, artichokes, and rhubarb are almost ready, and I think by the time we start filming, we'll have greens and potatoes. Mom also grows strawberries, and we have a few boysenberry plants, but those are harder to tell if we'll have a good crop or not."
"What do you mean?"
"I've spoken to Mom. Consider this your own storage room. From the source to the table with flair. I get the easy job. You have to add the flair."
Jud's smile competes with the spring sun lighting up the garden. He kneels on the soil, seemingly uncaring about his clothes, and takes a closer look at the vegetables.
"This is…wow…this is…I don't even have words."
Jud's happiness and enthusiasm make me feel things I shouldn't feel. He's just excited because we have a chance to offer locally sourced produce in the restaurant.
"But…what about your mom? Won't she need this?"
"This is mostly for us, but normally there's too much. We end up giving it away to friends, or my mom pickles some vegetables and makes chutneys. Do you think we'll have enough here to support our week at the restaurant?"
He stands up and comes over to me. There's a small dirt mark on his cheek from where he must have touched his face.
I bring my hand up to clean it, and he goes still. His eyes go a little dark, and we're back in the same place we were yesterday at the bookstore.
Fuck.
"Um…yeah, I haven't created the full menu yet, but…um…I think…it's enough."
The way he says it's enough makes me wonder if he's talking about something else.
I take my hand away and put it in my pocket before I do something stupid like hold his.
"Come on. There's something else I want to show you, but we need to stop at the house first."
"Okay."
As if she knows we're coming, my mom is on the porch steps with a bag in her hand, the motorcycle keys, and two helmets.
"Thanks, Ma."
"Will you boys be back in time for dinner?"
"We will, Ma."
"When have I heard that before?" she mutters before going back inside.
I go around the house and uncover our means of transportation.
"You have a bike," Jud says, going around the motorcycle and running his fingers over the leather seat.
