“Oh, I love that.” I take the device from her, zooming in on the photograph. “It’s filmy but not too thin. I like how it catches the light.”
Boo and I have been friends since we were little girls, and next spring, right here in LaGrange Orchard, she’s going to marry her long-time boyfriend Ricky the dentist from Shreveport.
Naturally, I’m her maid of honor, and we’re planning all the dresses and the hair and everything bride and bridesmaids-related, while her aunt Mindy, who is also my mom’s best friend and my uncle Sawyer’s wife, making her my aunt as well, is taking care of the rest.
Aunt Mindy is an interior designer, and before she married my uncle, she used to design fancy restaurants in Dallas. Now she has her own design firm and works on fancy events and hotels and rich peoples’ homes right here in Harristown.
In other words, she’s a pro.
“I like how it moves, and this is the veil…” She swipes the screen a few times to an image of a long, sheer piece of lace.
“Gorgeous.” I pull the shawl tighter around my shoulders, snuggling closer as we look at wedding photos on Pinterest.
Marriage is not on my agenda. Not that I’m opposed or anything. I simply have more practical matters on my mind.
After years of watching and helping my uncles with crop rotations and streamlining the harvest and increasing output, I decided to go back to school to get my graduate degree in plant pathology, specializing in fruit trees.
I’ve just finished all my coursework and exams at thesmall university in town. Then I’ll start working on my dissertation in the spring.
I figure once I’m done, I’ll work at the extension, maybe teach courses at the college in town. Our part of the state is pretty much exclusively farming country, and has been for generations, from the LaGrange Orchard all the way to the cotton fields in Delta.
I’ve grown up surrounded by hard-working stewards of the land, and every summer from the time I was old enough to catch a marked tennis ball, I’ve helped with the harvest.
I love this old place and the old ways. Sure, I’ve been in love before, but I’ve never met anyone outside my family who loved this orchard the way I do.
Except…
A little smile curls my lips as I remember a day so many years ago when I stood with a boy on the hill, holding hands and watching the sun setting over the trees. I said I’d marry him on the spot… sort of.
It’s like a scene from another life, when I was more impulsive and less worried about things like location and the other person’s dreams and how they might be a world away from mine.
I’m momentarily distracted by the past when I glance up to see my two uncles walking quickly from the rows to the peach shed. It’s still light out, and they grab shovels and an axe off the walls.
They’re frowning. No, it’s more than that. They look scared, and they exchange a glance that makes my stomach tense before heading out again. I stand, leaving the shawl on the swing beside Boo as I push through the screen door to jog after them.
“Dove?” Boo calls after me. “Are you coming back?”
“Give me a minute.” I wave at her as I follow the paththey cut through the trees, down to the south end of the orchard.
I’ve never seen them look like that before, and it sent a cold wind blowing across my heart.
When I finally get to where they’re standing, my eyes widen. They’ve dug up the roots of a tree. Uncle Sawyer stands beside it, holding the axe, and I see he’s chopped off the bark.
His eyes are tense and focused as his younger brother, my uncle Leon kneels beside the trunk, sliding a gloved hand over the exposed interior.
His jaw flexes, and his chin drops. “It’s white,” he says in a grave tone.
Uncle Sawyer tosses the axe to the ground. He steps away, putting both hands on his head. Then he bends forward, bracing his knees like he might be sick.
All of this has panic twisting my chest. I don’t understand what they’re doing or why. Why they’re digging up roots and chopping off bark.
“What’s happening?” My voice is so small, so afraid.
They turn quickly, straightening, but they can’t hide their expressions.
“Dove.” Uncle Sawyer reaches out his hand. “Why don’t you go on back to the house now.”
I step away from him, going to stand directly in front of Uncle Leon. “Something’s wrong. Tell me what it is.”
