“You’re coming along?” I ask, surprised.
“Yeah, if you’ll have me.” She smiles.
“Of course.” My stomach turns to butterflies as I think about spending the day with her.
“Okay, we’ll start here and make our way down,” she decides.
“Do you have a favorite apple?” I ask.
“Of course I do. I’m partial to Pink Lady apples.” She winks.
“What do those taste like?”
“I’ll let you be the judge of that.” She reaches into the tree and pulls down a perfectly round apple. She rubs it on the edge of her shirt and hands it to me.
“Shouldn’t we clean it first?” I wrinkle my nose.
Tilly tilts her head to look at me. “You’re kidding, right? I picked it fresh from the tree. I’ll take a bite first if you need convincing.”
I nod, so she laughs and takes a bite out of one side of the pink apple.
“Satisfied?” The juice from the apple runs down her chin, and it gives me a flashback to the last time I was dripping down her chin.
“Mmm.” I mumble and take the apple from her. She wipes her arm on her mouth, and I take a small bite of the apple. It’s extra sweet and juicy—it’s really good.
“So?” she prompts.
“I like it a lot. It’s really sweet.” I smile.
“Pink Lady apples are always the first to blossom and last to be harvested, each one soaks up about 200 days of sunshine,” she explains.
“Wow. Do you know a lot of random apple facts?”
“A hazard of the job.” She shrugs. “John Cripps is the plant breeder who naturally cross-bred the first-ever Cripps Pink apple in Australia in 1973. The best of these apples were then branded Pink Lady.”
“I should have you send me some of these facts for the Instagram. Maybe we can do a weekly ‘Did you know?’ about apples?” I suggest.
“That would be cool. I used to suggest to Benny that during the week we could have a guided tour of the orchard, but she didn’t think anyone would come to that.” She sighs.
“Wait, that’s a great idea. We could do it on Wednesdays, since that’s our slow day. It can be run by you, and eventually you can train one or two others to do the same. Everyone gets a taste of each apple on the tour and all the facts in your brain,” I say excitedly.
“Really?” She looks at me, surprised.
“Yeah, it’s a great idea.” I smile. “We’ll have to get together to talk specifics, but it definitely sounds great.” I nod.
“Awesome.” Tilly smiles. “Don’t eat the whole thing. Toss the apple by the stump and follow me.”
I follow her direction. It feels weird throwing away a perfectly good apple, but she’s right—I can’t eat entire apples of each one we try. So I follow her to the next row, and she hands me a dark red apple. This time she doesn’t take a bite first, and I look at her warily.
“It’s still safe, but I don’t like Red Delicious apples. To me, they’re bitter.”
I take a bite, and sure enough, my mouth puckers right up. I spit out the small bite and toss the apple to the side. Frowning, I look at Tilly as she starts laughing.
“That was disgusting!” I wish I had water or something to clean out my mouth.
“I know. They’re popular because they’re one of the oldest apples, but that was mainly because they’re the most durable to transport—not because they’re the most delicious. We always get people asking for them, but I don’t get it.” Tilly laughs.
“Well, I never want one of those again.” I frown.
