For the past few days, he’s been busy writing his proposal. I offered my help, considering I’m more familiar with this group of people than he is, albeit marginally. Still, he declined. For a foolish second, I thought meeting the co-op together would make us business partners or that he’d make me his protégé. Or, at the very least, that he’d warm up to hearing more of my ideas. But I guess if Dad is going to Dad, even in Blaire, I should be happy he eventook me up on my offer to organize this meeting in the first place. Bright side? Since our meeting is at four o’clock, I’m relieved of my sous-chef duties tonight.
“Ready?” Dad says by the doorway, carrying his briefcase. I’m a little surprised to see him dressed in a suit considering the meeting is taking place in a field next to a barn and not in a glass-walled conference room on the thirtysomething-th floor of a high-rise.
“Yep, ready.” I smile at him. Guess you can take the man out of the corporate world, but you can’t take the corporate world out of the man.
I follow him out to the tractor and climb into the passenger seat. Although he’s not dressed the part, Dad seems to be in his element, comfortably wielding the heavy-duty farming machinery. I, on the other hand, am not so comfortable with it and hold on for dear life, closing my eyes and mouth to keep dust, debris, and bugs from entering any of my orifices. Thankfully everything in town is about a five-minute drive, and we’re not in the tractor long before it’s parked in Jean Bakewell’s driveway.
The pathway leading up to the front porch is lined with rows of lavender bushes. “I’ve never seen so much lavender in one garden.” Dad stops to inhale the scent. “And it’s more fragrant than a bottle of perfume.”
I draw in a deep breath and agree with him. “Just wait until you see the arrangements she makes with it.” I motion for Dad to follow me to the front door. When I knock I’m caught off guard to see a woman who’s not Jean answer.
“Hi, you must be Elena. Jean is in the back setting up. I’m Callie’s mother, Annabel. I’ve heard so much about you.” Annabel holds out her hands expectantly for a hug. Remembering how Mr.Hartford gave Brennan a bear hug, I’m guessing Callie’s parents are bothhuggers. So I have no choice but to lean in. Even though this is supremely awkward for me, she gives me a squeeze that is comforting and sets me instantly at ease.
“Nice to finally meet you,” I say when she releases me. “Callie speaks so highly of you.”
“Aw, that’s sweet.”
“This is my dad, Dale Ok.” I introduce Dad, who, compared to Annabel’s warmth, is frigid. He holds out his hand and shakes hers stiffly.
“I would have put in a little more effort if I had known this was going to be a formal affair,” Annabel says, taking notice of Dad’s attire.
“Don’t be silly,” I say, swatting a hand at her. Her jeans and galoshes aren’t quite designer, but they’re practical and tell us that she takes her job seriously. We’re here to sample her farm-to-table products, after all. “You’re perfect the way you are.” I look expectantly at Dad to chime in, but he doesn’t. I can tell by the judgmental expression on his face that he agrees with Annabel.
Even though he should feel overdressed, he thinks she’s underdressed. As a leader in the fashion industry, Dad always said that you are what you wear, and what you wear says a lot about you. I’m pretty sure he’s thinking that these people are not serious.
“Dad, what was it that you said about your tea the other day?” I ask before an awkward silence lingers.
He seems truly puzzled. “Elena, this is a business meeting. Now is not the time for—”
“You said the honey elevated the flavor. Made it taste ten times the value of the cost.” If I’m being technical, I believe he said that the honey made the otherwise unbearable tea drinkable, but I’m paraphrasing. For obvious reasons. Dad may know what sells, butI know people. And you can’t sell a product without selling the idea first. “Isn’t that right, Dad?”
Annabel beams. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Oh,you’rethe bee farmer.” Dad finally catches on. I swear, for a man who built a company from nothing, he can be pretty dense.
Annabel nods proudly.
“I always enjoy honey in my tea, but yours had the most unique flavor I’ve tasted. What’s your secret?” Dad asks.
“I’ll tell you.” She smiles, leaning in.
Dad waits with bated breath.
“It’s Jean’s flowers.” Just then Jean pops up from behind her. “Oh, here she is. Jean has the most beautiful garden, and her arrangements always sell out at the farmer’s markets.”
“Flowers?” Dad blinks. “This is honey we’re talking about, right?”
“It benefits us both, really,” Jean explains. “We need the bees for pollination, and the nectar from the flowers makes the honey so rich in flavor.” She stops herself from going on. “Well, don’t just listen to us talk about it. Why don’t you try it for yourself?” She motions for us to follow her through the side gate. “We’ve got it all ready for you.”
The spread they have set up for us in the backyard is exquisitely charming. And not just for Blaire. For anywhere. Dr.Blaire is placing a chilled bowl of yogurt at the center of a rustic wooden table next to a variety of jars of honey. Along the sides are floral arrangements with bouquets of ranunculi and dahlias from Jean’s garden that are elegant yet understated, like the bouquets we took to the farmer’s market.
“Hi, Dr.Blaire. It’s nice to see you again. I believe you’ve met my dad before.” I point between Dr.Blaire and Dad.
“Yes, it’s nice to see you both.” Dr.Blaire smiles at me and Dad.
“You as well.” Despite the fact that they’ve met each other before,Dad shakes her hand. “Thank you again for lending us the tractor.”
“Oh, it’s no problem. We’re always happy to lend a helping hand,” Dr.Blaire says graciously. “And we can’t wait to hear what you have for us today. Please, make yourselves comfortable.”
