“Because it’s so obvious you’re into her.” She laughs.
“Just because I no longer hate her doesn’t mean I’m in love with her or something.” I scoff.
“I mean, no. But you do. It’s obvious in your interactions and the way you look at her.”
“I know she’s beautiful—that’s why I hooked up with her that first night. But it’s not like I think about that anymore. It was a one-time thing before I knew who she was.”
“But now that you know she isn’t who you originally thought she was, hasn’t your view on her softened?” Hattie asks.
“Yeah, but not enough to say I’m into her.”
“Okay.” Hattie makes a face but drops the conversation.
Hattie finishes taking care of the chipmunk and calls Ollie and Bells back in. His little leg is wrapped up, and she’s finding an old shoebox to keep him in for the week. She and Ollie havea habit of taking in strays and nursing them back to health, so it isn’t abnormal for them.
“The little guy needs a name,” Bells says, looking at him.
“You should name him—you found him,” Ollie says.
“That’s true.” I nod.
“How about Peanut?” She smiles.
“That’s funny. Can we feed him peanuts?” Ollie asks.
“We can. Actually, we should get him some food. I don’t know how long it’s been since his last meal,” Hattie says. She and Ollie head for the kitchen, and I look at Bells.
“Thanks for taking him here—and not hitting me with that baseball bat. Now I know never to sneak up on you,” she teases.
“Thanks for trying to save him. The code is 1919, by the way, in case you ever need it again.”
“Good to know, just in case I need to save any more chipmunks.” She laughs.
THIRTEEN
Bells
We only have two weeks before the season here starts. Our first huge event is on the fifteenth of August, and it starts at ten a.m. but goes all the way into the night. We have family activities planned all day and then at night we have fireworks and adult activities. I hired three new workers for the season to help out at the front gate for admission, someone to help Lina in the bakery, and a cashier. I was nervous about it all coming together in time. Tilly gave me some pushback, but now that it’s been a few months, she seems to be coming around.
Tomorrow is what I’m most worried about—influencer day. We’ll have almost one hundred influencers from all over the tri-state area visiting and agreeing to make content for waived admission. We have the day planned for lots of photo activities, including an old photo booth I’ve talked the town into letting us borrow for the day. Our focus is to get them through the orchard, showing the beauty, trying all of Lina’s delicious treats, and seeing the animals. If it works, it means tons of posts about the orchard with their agreement to post a few times throughout the season. Tilly still thinks it’s a waste of time—something I can’t seem to change her opinion on—but I’m willing to risk it.I’ve seen businesses thrive after one viral video, so it can’t hurt to create that.
Besides, it’s all we can do. If the orchard doesn’t make any money this month, I have to shut down by September first. I have talked all the vendors into extending our bills. They knew Benny and see how hard I’m working to get this place back up and running the way she had. But they still need to be paid, and I know I can’t hold them off much longer. It’s the true test of how hard I’ve worked the last several months.
“Tilly! Can you help me?” I call to her from across the field.
“What’s up?” She jogs over in those overalls that make me forget how to talk to her.
“I don’t like the way the hay looks on this, but I underestimated how heavy these hay bales are. Can you help?” I hate asking for help, but they aren’t as light as I thought they were.
“You don’t like the way the hay looks?” She smirks, like she’s trying to hold back laughter.
“I want to create a vibe up here, but right now it looks messy and thrown together.”
“Because it’s hay…” she says, deadpan.
“Yes, but we want to create an experience. If it doesn’t look good, they might not mention it in their content.”
“So?” She winces, and I sigh.
