And also, I’d bring a light jacket, just in case.
Yes, there was something to be said for corn mazes and pumpkin patches. But the Bloom Family Sunflower Maze had held a place in my Summerween-loving heart since I’d first visited aged twelve. I’d managed to lose myself in it no fewer than three times. Thank goodness for flare spells, which I’d shot upwards using my awkward tween magic, creating wonky fireworks that had resulted in the cops being called. Luckily, the cops at Whisperwind Cove were used to magic going awry, especially over the Summerween season.
Today, the Sunflower Maze looked both larger and smaller than I remembered. New rows of bobbing yellow flowers had sprouted since the last time I’d been here, stretching out in vibrant spokes from the main section of the maze. Every year, Dan and Terry Bloom carefully designed a new maze filled with spots to sit and sip. Both Dan and Terry had plant magic that was even stronger than Rosie’s, and they put it to good use on their sunny crop, whose black-and-yellow heads towered merrily as far as the eye could see.
At least they weren’t into climbing beans, or we’d be up in the clouds looking to meet a giant.
‘It’s perfect,’ I shouted over the roar of Finn’s topless, doorless Jeep – a salt-rusted beast of a car that he stripped back to its bare bones every Summerween so that we could ride around enjoying the sun and sand. ‘I’m going to get so lost.’
Finn’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and his hand found my knee. I almost brushed it off, but decided against it, even though the ring was crackling on my finger. Why shouldn’t I let him? Why shouldn’t I invite it?
I still felt weirdly prudish around him, although I couldn’t quite put my finger on why. It wasn’t that I was shy, exactly – just that I had to convince myself that this was all fine. Which made no sense whatsoever.
Especially since Noah had seemingly had to be forced to even kiss me on the forehead yesterday. Perhaps there wasn’t a choice to be made after all. Perhaps Finn was justit.
Although that’s not what Josephine had to say. After Sandy Balls, when I was in peak article procrastination mode, she and I had engaged in some cryptic diary repartee. We’d been scribbling back and forth about love and romance, and although she hadn’t been particularly forthcoming aboutherlove life, she certainly had some thoughts on mine. She’d also been quite intrigued by the concept of texting.
So, to clarify, they were down in the sand wrestling for your hand?she’d asked.
When I’d explained the situation in depth, she’d responded with,Well, who was willing to truly fight for the honour?
I’d countered that I didn’t especially need men literally fighting for my attentions. And that women these days had their own bank accounts and everything.
Modern love,she’d replied.It’s a strange thing.
Fortunately, I was distracted from my musings by Lara and Jack – who I still thought of as Skeleton Onesie Guy and probably always would. The two of them were perched on the bench seat in the back of the Jeep, looking as ridiculously attractive as they were dishevelled. Lara was taking selfies as they sipped on hard seltzers. A light buzz did make it easier to take the Sunflower Maze in stride.
‘Sunflower paradise, coming up,’ called Finn as we passedbeneath the ornamental arch, with its metallic sunflowers and dramatic art-nouveau signage. ‘Pass me a drink, Lara?’
‘Nuh-uh,’ said Lara, holding her can up high. ‘You’re the designated driver. Your role is to suffer for our company. And I donottrust Molly. Not even on an automatic transmission.’
‘Apparently she’s been driving the golf cart around,’ said Finn conspiratorially. ‘Someone’s been giving her lessons.’
Was there an edge to his delivery?
‘I’ve seen her in action,’ said Lara, teasingly. Although to her credit, she didn’t mention that Noah had been involved. ‘Which is why I’m now carrying around a helmet and wrist guards at all times. Because split-second decision-making is not our girl’s top skill. Or even long-term decision-making aided by her incredible best friend’s romantic insights.’
‘Shut uuuup,’ I sang, giving her a whack on the leg.
‘Please don’t shut up,’ teased Finn, squeezing my thigh. ‘I’m extremely invested in this outcome.’
‘Watch out for that beagle,’ I said, pointing out a dog that was nowhere near the Jeep. Just in case. But mostly because I absolutely needed to change the topic of this conversation right now.
Finn’s eyes crinkled as he pulled the Jeep down the farm’s bumpy driveway, parking in the roped-off lot. ‘No beagles were hurt in the parking of this vehicle.’
And no hearts were broken either. I hoped.
‘This is so cute.’ Lara was snapping photos of the refurbished barn that housed the ticket counter and the gift shop. ‘Wait, oh my god, is that a photo booth? Molly, you know I can’t go past a photo booth. It’s bad luck.’
Lara dragged me inside, and we posed as ridiculously as possible, splaying out fingers into peace signs and making fish lips that would make even the troutiest trout envious.
‘Can the boys join?’ called Jack over our giggles. ‘I did pay for everyone’s tickets.’
‘Ugh,fair,’ said Lara playfully.
I climbed out of the booth, letting Jack take my place. Giggles and snickers crept through the privacy curtain, and I raised an eyebrow at Finn. He raised an eyebrow back, and we managed an entire silent conversation about the rude things the two of them were getting up to that might require a polite aside to the farm staff. And maybe some Lysol.
‘Your turn,’ said Lara, emerging from the photo booth. She’d managed quite a dramatic shift in hairstyleandT-shirt positioning in the forty-five seconds she’d been in there – Clark Kent would have been impressed.
