5. Alex
The morningof the strawberry grand opening, I swing by after the milking to drop off a few crates of strawberry-flavored milk. While I heft the cases of pink liquid, Trixie begins her favorite pastime on the farm—watching Baabara, which, in this case, means trotting around and sniffing Baabara’s house to see if any invaders have dared set foot in the area. Eventually, she’ll settle down to watch the sheep munch on the hay bale that I’m sure my brother just put in to keep Baabara entertained and happy while guests are running around the property.
We don’t normally make flavored milk, and I was loudly against the idea, but Gran put her foot down and insisted that this was a family event, so we had to have Udderly Creamy milk, and it had to be strawberry flavored.
Gran made the strawberry syrup herself with the early strawberries and brought it over for the bottling.
We’re not the only vendor here. My brother invited a few local crafters and food purveyors, and the smells that waft through the farm mingle: baked goods and lavender soaps.
I look for Molly, but everything is pretty hectic, with getting the booths set up and vendors ready to go. When I do see her, she’s running around with a clipboard and directing people, tilting her papers this way and that to read the map and flipping through pages, her pale brow wrinkled in concentration.
Kit was wrong, damn it. She’s not cute. She’s sexy as hell. With her hair pulled up in a bun and tendrils framing her face, her pink lips dimpling under her teeth as she concentrates, she looks like she fits right in here.
She’s wearing white shorts and a jean jacket over a T-shirt—it’s chillier than it was yesterday, but still sunny. My gaze travels down her legs, which were clad in khaki pants for the interview and are on display now.
I blink. Ugh. Where’s my HR department? Oh, right, back at the farm. I scowl at myself and look away before Molly can catch me being creepy.
I feel different eyes on me, though, and turn my head to find my brother, Ethan, climbing down a ladder and heading my way.
“I owe you a phone call. We should talk,” is his opener.
I heave a sigh, hands in my pockets. I’ve heard this story before. A few months ago, in fact, and nothing came of it. “Sure.”
Ethan catches the doubts in my tone. “What is that supposed to mean?”
I shrug and bite the side of my tongue. “It’s been months since you said that.”
Ethan gestures around. “Well, we’ve got shit going on right now.”
I look away, and we’re both quiet for a moment. I don’t think my brother, the golden child and Grandad’s favorite, understands what it’s like to get your hopes up for scraps of attention, only to be let down once again.
My eyes fall on Lia. Maybe Ethan does get it but in a different way. Here’s his high school sweetheart, who disappeared for a decade, back in town and looking mighty happy.
And the way Ethan looks at her…
“She”s staying, then?” I stick my thumb out in Lia’s direction. Ethan’s face lights up like I haven’t seen since we were kids. “Good. Always thought you two were good together.”
Molly walks toward us, and I straighten up. She taps her clipboard and says to my brother, “We are as ready as we’ll ever be, boss.”
“I told you not to call me that. I think Lia’s the one really in charge. Or maybe Gran since she’s the one who hired you.”
She shakes her head. “Well, if we’re going by who is actually paying me…” Molly grins at me and pokes at the Udderly Creamy Farm polo I’m wearing. I subtly flex the muscle beneath her finger. Lord, help me. “Boss,” she says with a lilting tease.
That’s my cue to get out of here—when I start acting like an idiot—so I make my excuses and leave. Trixie trots out from Baabara’s house, and we head back to the farm and get to work.
* * *
In the late afternoon, my sister texts me that things are winding down and I should come back to see how it went. When I pull up and open the door, Trixie vaults out and starts the same thing she did this morning—sniffing around Baabara’s enclosure. This time is much more frenetic, and I’m going to guess Baabara had a lot of visitors today.
There are still a few customers lingering around, paying for their haul.
If I had any doubt that Molly was great with customers, it is washed away watching her at Bedd Fellows Farm selling strawberries. She’s not even selling the fruit, really; she’s selling the experience. She’s giving kids stickers and animatedly exclaiming every time she weighs a bucket as if she’s never seen such a giant mound of strawberries. The kids eat it up, and the parents leave happy.
Molly starts working for me on Thursday. I would have had her sooner, but Molly said she needed a few days to settle in. That was okay because I’ve had Kit around, but he’s eager to move back to the barn. He’s there now, working with Zach, my evening manager, bedding my herd down for the night, and I’m here to see how the day went.
Bedd Fellows Farm is like I’ve never seen it. There are red balloons everywhere, tables set up with home goods like soap and candles, and a bakery display.
I guess I was wrong about the milk because the abomination is pretty dang popular. The Igloo that kept the bottles chilled is empty.
I linger, chatting with the couple that owns the Feed ’n Seed, Diego and Chen, until they leave. I find my brother counting receipts and Molly counting the money in her cash box.
The family crowds in, Gran pouring tea for us, the twins—Colleen and Sam—talking to each other, Lia opening her laptop to crunch numbers.
Finally, she looks up, and my brother rushes to her side. A twitch of envy hits me, seeing how much he wants to be near her, how he hangs onto her every word and looks at her like she hung the moon.
My eyes shift to Molly and she’s staring right at me. I fix my face so I don’t look sappy by frowning.
“Today was incredible, Ethan. We made so much more revenue than we hoped.”
Ethan sags in relief, and the rest of us get closer, eager for details.
But Lia doesn’t look as happy as I would expect. “We always knew it wasn’t going to be enough, though. You’re still in a really precarious place.”
I frown. Of course, I didn’t think strawberries were gonna fix everything, but it’s an entire season of sales, and it should only improve as the different varieties fill in and word spreads about the farm. But I bite my tongue. Lia knows all this, and so does Ethan. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask. “Foreclosure, still?”
She shakes her head. “Not imminently, no. Today was a very, very good season opener. The grant money paired with the harvest revenue should more than cover your back payments and start to chip away at the interest a bit. But, you all knew the principle was extremely high…”
Ethan nods. “We knew. But I thought this would be enough going forward. The strawberries and having all the vendors here this spring…”
I can almost see my brother thinking, “What would Grandad do?” But then he seems to toss the thought away, focusing on Lia instead.
He pulls her close and presses his lips to her forehead. My brother relaxes against the love of his life.
Lia continues. “We need to regroup. Maybe restructure the business. There isn’t enough space here to do what we need.”
Ethan nods. Gran sighs. Samuel kicks a table. What would I do if I were in Ethan’s shoes? Well, that’s an exercise in futility, because I’m not in his shoes, nor will I ever be.
Grandad saw to that.
“Let’s all plan to meet again and discuss some options. We’ve got another week of peak strawberry madness, and then we can debrief.”
Gran and Colleen get to their feet, so I take my cue to go. But when I turn, I nearly knock into Molly.
“Hey.” She gives me a bright smile. “Since you’re here, wanna see Vaniel?”
“Vaniel?” Okay, I can guess who Vaniel is—who names their vehicle?—but I don’t want to seem too excited to see her van. That would be too weird, right?
“My van. Come on, I’ll show you.”