She stared at the emoji until the phone dimmed in her hand. That was all she was going to get, she guessed.
By the time she made it home and into her comfy pants, she’d already typed the message to Minka:
Hey, could you host The Nine at the café this Thursday? Think I’m coming down with something.
She hit send before she could change her mind. She just knew she couldn’t sit through another talk about the gala preparation pretending things were normal.
Minka replied almost immediately.Oh no!Of course! But I knew this was going to happen. Too much fun during Banned Books Week.
Cali replied with a laugh emoji.
Let me know before Sunday if you still want to go to Candlewick Orchard. If you’re better, I can still get Harlow to cover me at the café.
On Friday, Mrs. Ellery also texted Cali that she’d work front entrance as one of the greeters on gala night and hoped Cali felt better soon.
But no other messages came from Ethan, and she didn’t dare send any either. If she didn’t reach out, maybe the feelings would fade. They always did, eventually.
She remembered how this whole un-tethering process started with her ex-fiancé. The long gaps in communication, the second guessing, the sleepless nights. If, back then, she’d been able to jump forward in time to see how much better life wasafterhim, she would have never wasted so much energy trying to keep him. But that wasn’t the lesson that echoed through her brain when her head hit the pillow that night. Instead it was a heady soundtrack of questions only Ethan could answer.
Chapter 18
On Saturday morning, when Cali figured out how to phrase it, she told Minka her illness was in her head, not her body, and she was feeling well enough to go to Candlewick Orchard on Sunday. Minka reiterated the importance of taking breaks, and Cali reminded her Candlewick Orchard would be just that.
The ride to the orchard with Minka lifted Cali’s spirits almost instantly. Soft sunlight filtered through the color-changing trees as they rolled along an almost vacant Sunday morning highway. The sunroof of her SUV was open, inviting in the cool breeze.
“You going home for the holidays this year?” Cali asked.
Minka shook her head. “Doubtful. I can’t really leave town for the holidays because of the café. So it’s a good thing my parents and siblings are still mostly local.” She adjusted the visor against the glare. “But we may get a visit from some relatives in Indiana. Cousins and their kiddos. It’s been a while since I’ve seen them. Talking on the phone’s just not the same.”
Cali was reminded of her own family. They’d mostly stayed put in New England, although no longer at her childhood home. She didn’t blame them. There was something about New England autumns that no other place could touch.
“What about you? Any plans?” Minka asked.
“There’s no telling which direction I’ll be driving for Christmas this year,” she replied. “Autumn Ridge is that sweetspot between my brother’s place down in Connecticut and my parents’ place up in Maine.”
The wind whipped through Minka’s golden blonde hair. “Maybe they’ll all come visit you this year instead. Then they can meet Ethan.” She winked.
Cali offered a faint smile before taking a long sip of the Oat Couture Minka brought her for the trip. She wondered how long she could avoid the topic of Ethan but was determined to deflect and distract as much as possible.
Cali’s phone buzzed in her lap. A text from her mom:You seeing anyone? Just wondered with the holidays and all.
“Speak of the devil,” she muttered.
“Your mom?”
Cali nodded.
Minka laughed. “Parental telepathy. Works every time.”
“Apparently so.” Cali slid the phone face-down. “She’s got a sixth sense these days, when I’m talking about them. It’s like she knows.” But Cali couldn’t share what her mother texted. She needed a change of subject—and quick. “Tell me about the family who owns Candlewick again. You say they’re the ones who supply your apple cider doughnuts at the café?”
Minka was easily distracted when it came to suppliers. “Oh yeah, for years. Mine and pretty much every other small food business around here. And my apples. But it’s fun to go pick some for your own use. Oh, Mr. Winslow brought a new one for me to try this year: Ludacrisp. Can you believe it?” They both snorted, recognizing how similar the name was to a famous rapper. “I’m sure they just named them that because they’re ludicrously good. Like,amazing,” she emphasized. “Tropical even. Like if an apple and a pineapple had a baby.”
“That does sound good.”
As the miles passed by them, Minka fell into a deep explanation of apple varieties and cross-pollination.
Cali finally had to interrupt. She couldn’t stand not knowing. “How do you know so much about apples, Minka? You run a café. You didn’t grow up in an orchard.”
