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I slowly lower my fist.
I loosen my grip on the leather jacket, but the creep has to be a smartass. “Listen to the girl. Why don’t you just get the fuck out of here before I have to mess up that pretty face of yours.”
I glare at him, clenching my teeth before I give in to the rage that’s about to erupt. Rage I haven’t tapped into in over a year. Rage I thought had burned out in one night.
“Please, Jonathan,” Emma begs, setting a hand on my arm. I can’t give in to it. The destruction. I won’t do that to her and become one of her nightmares. I slowly back away as I order Emma to get into the car.
Apple picking is dangerous. It is for us, anyway.
“Hold the ladder straight,” Danika cries out. “I’m going to kill myself.”
“You’re three feet off the ground,” Jaz argues.
“Why do you insist on getting the apples at the top of the tree?” I ask her, setting down the bag bursting with fruit.
“Because they’re closest to the sun,” Darcy proclaims like it’s the most obvious answer.
“What she said,” Danika says with a grunt, stretching her fingers around the apple and plucking it from the stem. “Got you!”
“What are we going to do with this many apples?” I ask her.
The girls work on the farm, so they won’t be taking any of the two bags' worth, they helped Danika and I pick.
“Want me to start listing all of the apple things you can make with them?” Jaz asks as if it’s a dare. She begins ticking them off, finger by finger. “Apple sauce, apple butter, apple turnover, apple pie—”
“Ooh! Magda has the best apple pie recipe. I’ll ask for that as my birthday gift.” I clap my hands, already picturing Jonathan and me in the kitchen, baking.
“Why not have her make them?” Danika asks, polishing her prized apple on her flannel shirt.
“Where’s the mess in that? Do you know how much fun it’ll be to make them with Jonathan? Oh! His mom and brother are coming tomorrow. We can test it out on them.”
They all look at me. No one answers.
Darcy taps her lip, pondering. “I don’t picture him as a baker.”
“Exactly!” I exclaim. They continue staring. They don’t understand my definition of a good time.
“How’s he doing, by the way?” Danika asks. “Still staying… calm?”
“Why do you say that like he’s the Hulk?”
Darcy and Jaz giggle and begin picking up apples from the ground and throwing them. “Hulk smash.” Danika and I have to laugh. They’re adorably ridiculous.
Danika proceeds to break down her concern. “I mean, he’s had a savior complex most of his life. Having to beat the shit out of anyone who picks on the weak. It’s not something that just disappears because you change zip codes.”
“Savior complex?” I consider this. I always knew Jonathan stood up for people and couldn’t ignore someone in trouble. “I think I should take more psychology classes.”
“What is your major anyway?”
I shrug. “A little of this. A little of that. Still figuring it out.”
“Figured out real quick that I wasn’t meant for a classroom,” Jaz says, putting her arm around Darcy’s waist and tucking a hand in the back pocket of her overalls.
“I cannot believe you live in a yurt on a farm in Massachusetts!” I exclaim, in awe of them. “I thought it was beautiful in the summer. But it’s breathtaking in the fall with all the colors.”
“When are we having our next celebration?” Danika focuses on me. I press my lips together and shrug. “Pick a date already.”
“How can I? Every season’s so beautiful.” Except Jonathan and I have picked a date. August fifteenth of next year. But we’re waiting to surprise everyone with the save-the-dates we’re designing. I have the best idea.
