“Well, I’ve never really had a one-night stand. But don’t you typically stick around if you want to see the person again?” Hattie sips her coffee. She isn’t saying this maliciously, but it does hurt a bit to hear.
“I mean, yeah, but there are a lot of reasons she could have left,” I say.
“Yeah, maybe she had work to do,” Lina points out.
“Without her phone?” Hattie says.
“That’s why we should read it and see what she’s thinking.” Lina eyes the phone that’s chiming in my hands.
“No.” I shake my head. “If I’m going to find out what she’s thinking, it’s going to be in person. Not because I snooped in her phone. But maybe Hattie’s right...”
Is Hattie right? Bells made it obvious what she wants by leaving. I shouldn’t be second-guessing her motives when she couldn’t get out of here fast enough this morning. Which is fine. It’s not like I suddenly want to fall in love or some shit. It would be easier if I didn’t sleep with my boss, but I’ve done worse things.
“Can you bring her back her phone on the way home?” I ask Lina.
“Are you sure?” She looks at me skeptically.
“Yes. I have to check the animals, and I don’t have time,” I lie as I slide her the phone.
“Okay.” Lina nods.
I head upstairs to change into work clothes. They can keep hanging out, but I need to feed the horses and use my muscles for something productive. I feel too anxious to sit around talking about this. I wave goodbye to my friends on the way out and unlock the barn. It wouldn’t be the first time my friends hung out at my house when I wasn’t home. We all have an open-door policy when it comes to our homes.
I let the horses free, give them their breakfast, and then take a walk toward the apple fields. I haven’t checked in on the apples in a few days, and it can’t hurt to look. We open in twenty minutes, so there are already people hard at work everywhere else on the orchard. It’s technically my day off, but I can’t help myself.
I take the hike to the orchard and walk the fields. There are new baskets at the end of each aisle, and the trees look amazing. Thankfully no wildlife has gotten to them yet, so most of the apples are still hanging beautifully on the branches. The bright green trees, different-colored apples, and the smell of freshly cut grass make me close my eyes for a moment and take it all in. Maybe this is what I need. There’s a light breeze, and I take a deep breath as I walk down the empty paths.
We keep the paths down between the aisles of apple trees freshly mowed so people can walk through without a problem. Some families have strollers or walking aids, and although the grass is even, it’s easier to walk through when it’s cut closely. We try to make it accessible to everyone. That’s something Benny pushed for—especially at the end, when she was too sick to walk along the paths herself. At least once a week, I’d push her in the wheelchair up here, and we’d walk through the lanes to make sure the apples were growing okay. We’d talk about the next season even though both of us knew she wasn’t going to make it for the next one.
I clench my fists at the memory. I knew she was sick, but it didn’t make losing her any easier. I’ve come to somewhat understand her choice to give Bells the orchard. She’s doing an amazing job and has really turned the place around. Everything is bustling, and I know we’re sold out of tickets for the next few weekends—something that hasn’t happened in years. Maybe she wanted to keep it in the family, or maybe she had an idea that Bells would take over the place like this. I’m still worried she’s fixing it up to sell, but for the time being, it seems unlikely.
The only thing that bothers me is feeling like she thought I couldn’t handle the orchard on my own. Did something happen where she thought I was no longer able to handle it? She always promised it to me, and then all of a sudden, it was out of my hands. I wish she could see how much I’m taking on and how much I handled everything at the end when she was sick. She never wanted to talk about it, but I thought that was just because she was scared. I always thought she saw me as family, the way I saw her as the mother I needed—but maybe that was more embellished than I thought. In the end, I guess it comes down to her wanting to leave it to a blood relative, and I was just a teenage runaway she took in.
I hear people coming toward the aisle I’m in, and I know I need to get the tractor back. Someone forgot to bring it back down yesterday and while I didn’t mind the walk up to the apple trees, something tells me the staff will. The staff will need it for the hayrides and transportation of the day. I wipe my eyes, suck in a sharp breath, and take one last look at the orchard. Everything is picture-perfect for today, and I have no doubt with the growing crowds Bells promised, we’ll be set.
Hopping back on the tractor, I watch as couples, families, old people, and everyone in between head toward the apple trees. Everyone is smiling, the kids running up to the trees and parents telling them to be careful. I’m glad Bells’ influencer day hasbrought in all kinds of crowds. I didn’t think that was possible, but I’m proven wrong about her again—not that I’m ready to admit it to her yet.
Bells’ smile pops in my head as I head back, and I can’t help but smile myself. I’ve been an idiot lately when it comes to her, and as much as I want to blame the alcohol or the overwhelming sexual tension, I know it’s more than that. She’s getting under my skin, and I don’t think I mind it. Something about her makes everything different. Every time I think she’s going to change things for the worse, things end up better and stronger than before. Maybe that’s what she’s doing to me too.
NINETEEN
Bells
“Where are you headed?” Tilly asks, standing by the tractor. Her arms are exposed, glistening in the sun with a few beads of sweat.
“Oh, I was going to pick some apples. I haven’t actually done that yet,” I admit.
“You haven’t picked apples this season, or ever?”
“Well, if you count the summer I stayed here, I did. But since then, not so much,” I say shyly.
“Get up here, we’re going now.” Tilly commands and climbs up on the tractor. It’s not attached to the trailer, but there’s enough room for me to sit too. She takes my hand and helps me climb up. Thankfully, I thought to wear my boots today.
“What’s your favorite kind of apple?” she asks. It’s one of the first times I’ve talked to her since our night together. We see each other every day, but it’s not like we have a lot of chances to talk about anything with people around. Plus, I kind of get the feeling she doesn’t want to talk when she had Lina return my phone to me. Like that wasn’t awkward as fuck.
“I don’t know.” I furrow my brows together. Even though I know the names of all the apples now, I don’t know if I could tell the difference between most.
“Then we’ll start at the beginning and do a taste test,” she decides.
