Chapter 7
seven
Jansel stumbled to a sudden stop as he entered the kitchen. Emerson glanced over to see Luca, following close behind, almost run into his back.
Jansel released a low whistle.
“Running Short King Florists as a side hustle now?”
Emerson gave a short huff as he took the lasagna out of the oven.
“Prepping the wildflower field for the wedding. I couldn’t just tarp over all of them.”
He took off his oven mitts before turning to the kitchen island.
Which was, yeah, okay, covered in flowers.
Every single Mason jar that wasn’t already in use elsewhere was currently crammed on the counter, along with every random receptacle he had been able to find.
A few actual vases. A handful of Mexican Coke bottles, a favorite treat of Jayden’s.
It would sound like a silly thing to an outsider, Emerson knew, the fact that he’d spent almost his entire workday collecting flowers.
But the truth was it had been back-breaking work, and he’d only gotten a pathetic fraction of the area he needed to tame for the wedding ceremony cleared of blooms. He knew he couldn’t save all the flowers, but hopefully Liv would buy the ones he had, and the profit vs.
his time balancing act that he lived every goddamn day of his life would be worth it.
He’d save what he could of the flowers this week, then tarp over an area wide enough for an aisle, for seating for a hundred people, for the dais where Ben and Alexei would seal their commitment to each other.
The tarps would help smother growth without tearing up the soil.
And then he’d do what he could to make the area presentable.
“I’ll take them over to Liv tomorrow morning, see if she’ll take them.”
Luca took off his Giants hat, scratched his fingernails across his scalp. “Liv at the IGA?”
For the first time since Luca and Jansel had walked through the door, Emerson allowed himself to really look at Luca. He looked…sun-kissed. And sweaty. And tired.
He smiled at Emerson over the flowers.
And happy. There was a streak of dirt running along his jaw. He looked tired and sweaty and happy.
Emerson looked back down at the ridiculous array inside his kitchen.
“Yeah. She’s my biggest customer in town. Typically she requests what she needs, but sometimes I bring her things and see what she says. I’ve brought her flowers before and she’s taken them, but…guess I haven’t brought her quite so many at once.”
“I can take them over there in the morning, if you’d like. If that’s okay.”
Emerson looked up.
“That’d be great, actually.” It was these types of errands, all the deliveries and pickups and little things that took him away from the farm that always stacked up more than Emerson expected. That Emerson would love to have help with.
Plus, then Luca would have to be the recipient of Liv’s you’ve got to be shitting me look instead of him.
Liv liked Emerson alright, or at least so he hoped.
But it was Jayden she always worked with the most, back in the day.
He was pretty sure Liv could tell she made Emerson nervous.
He was pretty sure it inspired her to bust his balls even more.
He was sure there was more he was about to say—asking how the day had gone in the beds, if Luca had any food allergies, that he didn’t have to have dinner with Emerson and Daisy if he didn’t want to—but Luca, at that precise moment, leaned down to stick his nose in a bouquet.
Something about the whole picture—the riot of color between himself and Luca, the yellows and purples and pinks and whites, the way Luca’s long eyelashes kissed his cheeks, the yellow warmth of the overhead light hitting his face just so, the stubble of his chin almost hidden in the greenery—
By the time Emerson realized Jansel was saying something to him, Jansel was already popping the cap back on a dry erase marker. Emerson blinked over to the whiteboards. Jansel raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Emerson said, throat dry. He cleared his throat. “Sounds good.”
Jansel’s eyes tracked between Emerson and Luca, who was still examining the rows of flowers. A smirk flitted across his face as he twirled his car keys around a finger. Emerson’s cheeks heated.
“Well, fellas,” Jansel said. “See you tomorrow.”
“Thanks for everything today, man,” Luca finally lifted his gaze from the island to say.
“Hey, you too.”
Daisy emerged from the hall, purple headphones on her ears, fingers clutching an equally colorful tablet. Jansel ruffled a hand through her hair on his way out. A second after the door shut behind him, Daisy looked up, eyes brightening as she registered Luca’s presence.
“New farmer man!” she shouted at her even-louder-than-normal range. Emerson hustled over to lift the headphones from her ears.
Luca smirked. “Don’t know if we can call me a farmer yet.”
“You’re on our farm. You’re a farmer. I’m a farmer, too!”
Her chin jutted into the air.
“Absolutely you are. You can call me Luca, though. Easier to say than Farmer Man.”
“Are you having dinner with us, Loo-kah?”
Emerson’s heart skipped a beat. Of course Daisy would somehow pronounce Luca’s name that way.
That barely off-kilter, slightly mis-emphasized Daisy way.
It was just—now Loo-kah would inevitably be added to Emerson’s mental Rolodex of Daisy Speak.
It was already there, ink seeping onto a new notecard of his mind.
“I—”
Emerson had already turned, gathering plates and forks. But he could feel Luca’s eyes on the back of his neck, hear the uncertainty in his halting voice.
“I don’t know if—”
“Room and board, right?” God, he hoped his voice sounded normal. “You can have dinner with us, if you want. If you like lasagna.”
“Who doesn’t like lasagna?”
“It’s one of Daisy’s favorites.” He picked up a metal spatula, carved out a few slices. “So…we have it kind of a lot.”
Every time Emerson fed his family, he saw it in dollar signs. How much this meal had cost in extra ingredients, grown on another person’s land. Manufactured in a factory somewhere far away. The fossil fuels it had taken to transport it to Daisy’s plate.
If he only fed himself, he might be able to live closer to that ultimate fantasy of the micro farmer: self-sustainment.
He spent pretty much all of his time thinking about it.
Food, how we provide for ourselves. How we live, day to day.
But he knew Daisy needed more protein than morning eggs, and even his eggs only lasted for as long as the hens kept laying for the season.
Even on his well-planned acreage, he could never provide all the nutrients and supplies his family needed. On his good days, he didn’t feel like an enormous failure about it.
“You can sit by me!” Daisy patted the seat at the kitchen table next to her.
The chair where Jayden used to sit.
“Need something to drink?” Emerson asked as he cut Daisy’s lasagna into smaller pieces with the side of a fork.
“Just a massive glass of water would be great, if possible.”
Emerson busied himself with plating, with drinks, followed by tidying up the counter for so long that by the time he actually joined the table, Luca and Daisy were well into their meal and a conversation Emerson was only now fully tuning into.
“Do you have any babies?”
Luca almost choked on his lasagna.
“No,” he said, recovering. “I don’t have any babies. I do have a nephew and a niece, though.”
Daisy stared at him blankly.
“My brother has two children,” he clarified. “I’m their uncle.”
Daisy’s face lit up. “I have an uncle! Uncle Cruz. He lives in...”
She trailed off, glancing at Emerson for help.
“Bellevue. Outside of Seattle.”
Jayden’s brother. They only saw him once a year or so.
“Hey, that’s where my brother Kjell lives, too, the one with two kids.”
Daisy’s mouth shaped into an o of shock. “Are they friends?”
A sound formed on Luca’s lips, the very beginning of a no, until he appeared to re-think it.
“You know,” he said with a private grin aimed solely at Daisy. “Maybe.”
She gave a thoroughly pleased grin right back. Until it morphed into a frown.
“I don’t have a brother.”
“That’s okay. I happen to have three, but every family’s different.”
Daisy gasped. “Three?”
“And a sister.”
Daisy’s mouth dropped open. Luca laughed. Everything about the scene threatened to crack Emerson’s sternum in half.
He took a bite of lasagna. He was being overdramatic. It’d only been a year that these meals had been just him and Daisy. It shouldn’t be throwing him off so much, having a new, ridiculously good-looking member of the table.
“Do you have daddies or mommies too?”
“Yeah. I have a mom and a dad. They live here, in Greyfin Bay.”
“I have two dads.” And then, “One lives in Portland. I live there sometimes.”
“That’s cool.”
“We do markets there, too.”
“Farmers’ markets?”
“Yeah.” Daisy added in a loud whisper, “They are BORING.”
“Daisy,” Emerson admonished, but it was barely heard over Luca’s guffaw.
Emerson couldn’t help but switch his gaze to Luca holding his fist to his mouth to hold it in, fork hanging in the air.
The crinkle of the skin around his eyes.
The sound of his laughter eased the tension in Emerson’s shoulders.
He didn’t know why he was admonishing Daisy in the first place.
She was telling her truth. She was making Luca laugh.
There had been a shadow of doubt in his mind about Luca’s first week on the farm coinciding with a Daisy week. Maybe Jayden had been right. Maybe it was irresponsible in a number of ways.
But as he continued to watch Luca and Daisy volley questions and answers back and forth, it was clear this was the only way this week could have worked.
His inquisitive daughter, the perfect buffer.
He imagined sitting here at his kitchen table across from Luca, alone, as it would be next week, when Daisy was back at Jayden’s.
Who would make Luca laugh then?
Certainly not Emerson. He’d never been a chuckle-inducing kind of guy.
Maybe they could eat in their rooms?
The tension returned to his shoulders.
The next time Emerson could breathe normally again, the plates had been cleared, Luca pulled into the living room by Daisy to watch her current favorite TV show. Emerson stared out the window above the sink, where he was pretending there was more to clean.
Fine. Luca’s first day on the farm had gone just fine. It was all going to be fine.
Emerson should probably text Jay about it, just to let him know.
As if it’d been listening to his thoughts, his phone vibrated in his back pocket. Turning away from the window, he leaned his hip against the counter.
The texts weren’t from Jayden, but from Ben. They lit up the screen, rapid fire, one after the next.
hey emerson!!
okay this is super last minute but my best friend/maid of honor, Julie, is going to be in town this weekend and she’s asking to see the site of the wedding.
Please say no if we are imposing, but could we perhaps take you out to dinner on Saturday night? And then maybe do a quick swing by the farm after?
no worries at all if you’re already busy! She just threatened violence if i didn’t at least ask
I promise her partner Elle is much nicer
(Elle won’t be here this weekend but you’ll meet her at the wedding)
Okay now Julie is telling me i’m overexplaining things
Just let me know!