“I want to see it all.”
Mary Ann winks. “I knew I’d like you.”
While Shallots naps in the shade, my tour is the bliss that I never knew I wanted. I run my hands through sheep wool, watch goats dance about when teased with food, laugh when llamas run our way in search of treats, and lose my mind over the chicken coop. Little did I know that chickens could be so damn pretty or that they could sport so many feathered hairstyles and bright markings.
“We built this cool chicken run that encases the vegetables and flowers. The chickens eat ticks and other bugs that would destroy vegetation,” she explains proudly. “Danny is the one who did the actual building of said chicken run and the coop.”
“Well, I think it’s genius. And the coop is an architectural feat!” I look through the windows and admire the tiny shutters. “Like an actual house. Schroeder,” I say as I nudge him, “now, I’m not worried about you working on a human’s house!”
Mary Ann laughs hard. “He’s handy when he needs to be.”
“Okay, you two are very funny.” Then, Danny touches a hand to Mary Ann’s shoulder and adds, “FYI, so you know, every animal here is a rescue.”
“What?” I ask with surprise. “That’s incredible.”
“It’s true,” she says. “My grandparents have only rescues here. You might have noticed a few three-legged goats, blind cows, and such. They’re all pets really. Although we do shear the sheep and llamas for their wool. And milk the goats. We keep the place running by selling the wool, milk, and other produce and crops. Wait until the corn comes into the fields this summer. The fresh crispness will blow your head off!”
After I’m fully and blissfully covered in animal smells and Mary Ann has answered my countless questions about farm life, we are seated at a table off the kitchen, and I dig into the food she laid out—goat cheese, olives, pâté, assorted charcuterie, roasted peppers, fresh bread, and fruit.
“This is so nice of you,” I say. “Totally not necessary, but it’s all delicious.” I snag another piece of salami and have to stop myself from audibly groaning. “The flavor is so strong. Is it from a shop in Wake?”
She nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, you’ll have to go! There’s an awesome cheese and wine shop, and I’ll take you in and introduce you to the owner. If you buddy up to him, you get a lot of free samples. Danny doesn’t go in often with me because he doesn’t drink wine.”
He rolls his eyes and dips a chunk of French bread into a glass jar of herbed oil. “I’m sure Callie’s shocked. Do I look like a wine drinker? Or a specialty-shop goer?”
“Or someone who eats fruit?” She shoves a piece of cantaloupe in his direction, which he takes and feeds to his beloved basset hound, who has been patiently waiting under the table. “Yeah, yeah. You and your boring beer. Do you drink wine?” she asks me.
I pause. “Uh, I recently made the switch.”
“Good,” she says brightly. “Maybe you can get Danny to appreciate that there’s something to be said for a complex cabernet. Or a bright, citrusy pinot grigio.”
“Basic beer and I work well together.” He shoves her playfully.
“God, you and your cheap shit.” She starts to clear the table, refusing my help, and asks how many eggs I want. Mary Ann waves to two empty cartons in front of me. “You can collect them yourself right from the nest. I’ve been doing it for ages, but I still get a kick out of it.”
“It is pretty cool,” Danny agrees.
“Well, I don’t want to be greedy. Two dozen rather seems like a lot—”
“Who cares?! We’ll fill ’em up!” Mary Ann says.
“I am hoping to learn to cook, and I thought I’d start with scrambled eggs,” I admit. “If I’m super brave, an omelet.”
“Don’t look so sheepish. Seriously, I can’t cook a thing,” she admits with a smile. “I tend to live on snacks, as you saw. And this Danny guy is worse than I am. A fridge full of frozen food. Hardly a royal palate. So, take as many eggs as you want, and maybe you can feed us.”
“Ha! Don’t get your hopes up. It’s been nothing but takeout health food for years in my house. Lots of grains and dried fruits.”
Danny visibly cringes.
“I’m with you,” I agree as we begin heading back to the chicken coop. The only trendy health food thing I truly like is avocado toast.”
“What the fuck is avocado toast?” Danny asks. “That sounds rude.”
“Danny, shut up!” Mary Ann snaps affectionately. “You’rerude! It might be wonderful.”
I laugh. “It’s fine. And surprisingly tasty. Maybe I’ll learn to make it and prove that it can be delicious.”
“You’re on. What are the odds that you get me to like avocado toastandwine?” His dare comes with a giant grin.
