Page 67 of Goode Tidings

The festival has just begun, and people are trickling in. All around us I hear car doors closing, muted conversations. Soon the parking spots that surround the park will be taken, and people will begin parking anywhere they can squeeze their cars.

I'm looking at all the vendors when I get an idea. "Can you hold it down here for a few minutes?"

Eden nods, looking bewildered.

"I'll be right back," I assure her.

It takes all of six minutes for me to return holding two paper cups of cider and two sticky toffee puddings.

"Is that what I think it is?" Eden asks, eyes wide as I set everything on the table. The excitement is back in her voice.

Her grateful smile dazzles me, and I stammer a yes response while I busy myself with placing a cup of cider in front of her.

"This was thoughtful. Thank you." She touches my forearm, nails lightly grazing. My long sleeve covers my skin, and still I feel it.

I shrug like it was nothing. "I was afraid they'd run out by the time we had a chance to get there," I explain. "The woman running the booth looked at me like she couldn't believe I was standing there."

Eden's touch leaves my arm, and the dimple in her cheek deepens. It's how I know she's about to say something funny or sassy, probably both. "Initial hermit sightings have that effect on people. You have to give them time to get used to seeing you around."

"I'll remember that." I lift my apple cider into the air.

Eden does the same, bumping the bottom of her cup with mine. She takes a sip and groans somewhat indecently. Good thing there was nobody around to hear that. Except me, and it will absolutely play in my head for the rest of time.

"I've never had anything like that," Eden says. She spears the sticky toffee pudding with her fork. "This could be the worst toffee pudding I've ever had, and it will somehow be the best because"—she motions around us—"look at this place. It's like a storybook. I've waited my whole life for a fall like this."

There was a stiff wind last night, enough to knock loose the first of the leaves. The scattered leaves make it all more picturesque. Add in the crisp air, the homemade apple cider, and the fall décor, and yeah, I get it.

"Verdict?" I ask when Eden takes a bite.

Eden closes her eyes. Chews. Swallows. "I once had sticky toffee pudding at a Harry Potter theme park. That"—she points at the dessert, fork stuck in the center—"was one hundred times better."

I nudge the second one toward her. She nudges it back. "Don't forgo this opportunity, Hot Squat."

I almost choke on my cider. "I bought two for you. How else are you supposed to get that stomachache you promised yourself?"

Eden rolls her lips, considering. "I do have a goal to reach." She eyes the second dessert for a moment, then pulls it to line up with the first. "Twist my arm. But first." She brings a small sketchpad out from her purse and removes the attached pencil. "This would make the cutest paper. I just want to get it down really quick so I don't forget the details."

Her head bends and she begins to draw. Taking my phone from my pocket, I snap a photo of the food and drink.

Without lifting her head, Eden asks, "Did you sneak a picture of me?"

I set down my drink. "Absolutely not. I took a picture of the items you're drawing, in case later on you realize you've forgotten some aspect of them."

"That's very sweet of you," she says. The tip of her tongue pokes out from the side of her mouth as she focuses. It's unbelievably cute. "Send it to me, please."

I do as she asks, then decide to check on the puppies. Those leaves that are making this place so vibe-y are all over the place. The breeze has blown them into the puppies' area, and they want nothing more than to chew on their new toys. I have no idea if these leaves could be bad for them, and I don't plan on finding out. High-stepping my way into the pen, I go around and pick up every leaf, or portion of a leaf. One particularly precocious puppy is ready to fight to the death for his plaything. He does the cutest high pitch growl, attacking my hand when I wrestle it away.

"I admire your tenacity," I tell him, lifting him up and looking him in the eye. He gives me the saddest puppy-dog face. Wow, this guy is not above using what God gave him to get his way.

The festival picks up. Eden stows her sketchbook in her purse and eats the remaining toffee pudding in between chatting with people who stop to play with the puppies.

"Does your stomach hurt yet?" I ask, gathering the empty aluminum cups.

"Not yet, but the day is young."

So far we haven't had a single adoption, but there was one very interested couple who drove all the way here from Olive Township, a town on the other side of the state. Eden struck up a conversation with the couple, mentioning that her cousin's wife is from the same town. Turns out, the guy's friends with the older brother of Eden's cousin's wife. Small world.

The sun hangs high in the sky now, burning off a bit of the chill in the air. Eden has been her happy, chatty self with every person who has come by to see the puppies. I'm content to sit beside her and bask in her ebullience.