Chapter 12
Via and Leo went to the stack of carts available for customers to load their pumpkin purchases on. She pushed one across the
hay-strewn dirt yard to the piles that had been picked by the Trentons, the family who owned the patch. Only a few people
were allowed access to the field, and for good reason.
As Via looked over the pumpkins, trying to find the perfect specimens, she heard Leo’s voice.
“He seems bored.”
Via looked to the side. Then the other. No Leo. Then she realized he was standing behind her checking on Sir. “He likes the
movement of the catpack when I walk. I’d take him on the leash, but I don’t want him to get stepped on.”
“Guess I’m projecting. I’d be bored if I was stuck in a backpack.”
“Are you?” She inwardly winced, wishing she hadn’t asked the question. “Bored, I mean?”
Leo rubbed his chin. “No.” He picked up a pumpkin and weighed it in his hand. “Why Octavia?”
“My name?” she asked, surprised at the abrupt subject change.
“Yes. You’re the first Octavia I’ve ever met.”
“Mom’s a lit professor at Lake Erie College. I was named after Antony and Cleopatra.”
“The play, right? After Antony’s wife?”
She nodded and set a wonderfully plump pumpkin on the cart. One down, seven more to go. “Did you read it at Harvard?”
“Sixth grade. I think. Been a while.”
Shakespeare in middle school? He really was a smart guy. “Mom never liked the name or character of Cleopatra. Although Cleo
is a cute nickname.”
“Via suits you better.”
She thought so too.
“What literary work is Theodora from?” he asked.
“A movie from the 1950s. My grandpa is a movie buff.”
“Ah. And Fergus? Movie? Book?”
“Dad’s best friend from elementary school. Ferguson Shinglehoffer.”
He froze, still holding the pumpkin. “Seriously?”
“Very. But Fergus is just Fergus. No -son.”
“Fergus suits him,” he said. “He’s rather imposing.”
“Don’t let the lumberjack exterior fool you. He’s a big smush on the inside.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Your turn to explain your name, Leonardo,” she said, moving the cart to another pile. Maybe the pickings would be better
here. Not that the other pile was bad, but none of them appealed.
“Constance—my mother—thought it was regal. Little did she know I’d spend my entire childhood and a good chunk of adulthood
being asked where Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo were.”
She grinned. “Did you ever watch the cartoon?”
“In college. I wasn’t allowed to watch TV growing up.”
“Really? No Sesame Street?”
“Nope.”
“Bugs Bunny?”
“Nyet.”
“Spider-Man? Batman? Superman?”
“Nada. I did watch some of those in school, behind my parents’ back, of course. I was such a rebel.”
Via grinned and examined the pumpkins again. She could hear Sir purring in the catpack.
Leo picked up another less-than-perfect pumpkin. “What about this one?”
She looked it over. “It will do.”
He placed it on the cart. “I had no idea you were such a picky pumpkin picker.”
“A picky pumpkin picker in Pumpkin Paradise, you mean.”
“A picky pumpkin picker in Pumpkin Paradise picking the plumpest of pumpkins.”
She laughed. “I don’t think I can top that.”
“You probably shouldn’t. We would be here all day trying to out-pumpkin-pick each other.” He pointed to another one, slightly
bigger than the other two on the cart. “Does this one meet your standards?”
“Not quite.” For the next half hour they pored over the pumpkins and finally found all she needed. He pushed the cart for
her to the checkout stand. Small pumpkins and gourds were in bushel baskets close by. She grabbed a few and added it to her
purchase. They made their way to Gold Yeller and stopped behind the truck.
“I got this.” Leo opened the gate and easily picked up two extra-large pumpkins as if they weighed the same as cotton balls
and loaded them on the truck bed.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She took it out and saw Dora’s text.
Dora: I’m riding back with Charlie and Phoenix. That okay?
Her brow shot up. How had she forgotten about Dora? She looked at Leo again, knowing exactly how.
Via: Of course.
Dora: Charlie said he’d look at Leo’s car. Can’t wait to, actually.
Via: I’ll let him know.
Dora: Have fun.
Via: We’re going home and going to bed.
At least she was. After a long, relaxing bath. Tonight she needed one.
Dora: Together??????
Quickly she typed:
Via: No!!!!! Get your mind out of the gutter.
“All done.” Leo shut the back gate and moved to stand next to her.
Via shoved her phone in her pocket. He didn’t need to accidentally see that conversation.
She took off the catpack, set it down, and took out the leash from its compartment.
“I need to walk Sir for a few minutes before we go.” She lifted him out, but he immediately jumped to Leo.
With a sigh she said, “Can you hold him while I put on the leash?”
He nodded, but when Via reached out for Sir, Leo took the leash from her and set him on the ground. “Where does he need to
go?”
She set the catpack in the bed of the truck, and together they walked over to a grassy area away from the parking lot so Sir
could do his business.
“I didn’t know you could train a cat like that,” Leo said.
“Cats have minds of their own. But Sir likes being outside. He loves his field trips and walks, and I like taking him. We
have an understanding.”
Sir pranced through the grass and they turned to walk through the parking lot again. The sun was setting, and the sky was
a mix of amber and coral with hints of blue-lavender. Beautiful. Leo had his hand in his pocket and the other one held the
leash, seemingly in no hurry to get back to the truck. She wasn’t either.
But it was a short walk to Gold Yeller, and Via started to take the pack out of the truck bed.
“Leave it.” Leo picked up Sir and handed him to Via. “He’ll be fine in the cab.”
“You sure?”
“My truck. My rules.” He gave her that dimpled half smile again and unlocked the passenger door. Opening it, he gestured for
her to climb inside.
She did and settled Sir in her lap and unclipped the leash as Leo got inside the truck. Their first bucket list experience
had been wonderful—more than she’d ever expected. And they still had most of the list left to finish. She had no business
enjoying it as much as she did. But she couldn’t help it either.
Leo had always been good with directions, so he knew his way back without GPS or Via’s instructions.
It was simple—just a few back roads, a hop on I-90, and then take the Chagrin Falls exit to downtown Pecan Corner.
Sir was sleeping in her lap. He was glad the cat was free.
He’d hate to be penned up like that, even though Via insisted Sir didn’t mind.
He glanced at her in the dusky light of the cab. It was past sundown, but he could see that her eyes were closed. Sitting
so close to her on the ride to Pumpkin Paradise had been sweet torture. She smelled like cool fall and warm sunshine, and
he was sure that wasn’t perfume. Just her. He wanted to put his arm around her and pull her close, even closer than they’d
been behind the Pumpkinheads.
Pure instinct had compelled him to put his arm around her waist when they were getting their picture taken, and he didn’t
want to let go. He’d also grabbed the picture on impulse. He’d told her the truth—he liked it. She looked surprised . . .
and beautiful. Everything about her was gorgeous. Her curves, her mile-long legs, a derriere that didn’t quit—
He almost groaned out loud. What was he going to do about his fascination with her?
Suddenly he was almost at the road he needed to turn on to get to Pecan Corner. He focused on the rest of the drive, listening
to the hum of the engine. Not even close to as smooth as his Turismo. At least Gold Yeller was running.
A few minutes later he pulled into the parking lot behind their apartment and business building and parked the truck. Via
startled to life. “We’re home already?”
Home. Pecan Corner would never be his home. That was LA. But for now it would do. “Where do you want me to put the pumpkins?”
Yawning, she picked up the catpack off the floorboard. “Can I keep them in the bed overnight? I’ll get them in morning.”
He frowned. He thought she had been dozing on the way home, but it was obvious she’d been in a deep sleep. That made him concerned
that she was overworking herself on his account. “Via, if it’s too much for you to help me in the shop—”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” she snapped.
Where did that come from? Earlier, she got snippy with him and thought he was going to ghost her. He had to set her straight
on that, and he thought they’d put it behind them. She hadn’t given any indication she was still upset. Until now.
All the warm, wonderful thoughts and feelings Via brought out in him disappeared. Constance had been like this. She was never
bubbly and fun like Via. But she could be calm, even nice at times, only to turn on a dime and ground him for no reason. Or
worse, give him the silent treatment. Anytime he came across someone—woman or man—who had those same tendencies, he steered
clear. “I’m trying to be nice,” he said, resisting the urge to throw open the door, and instead methodically pulled on the
handle and stepped out. But he couldn’t stop his next words. “You do whatever you want.”
“Leo—”
He shut the door on her and walked with measured steps back to the apartment. His hands started to fist, and he shoved them
into Earl’s jacket pockets. He didn’t need this. Any of it—the stipulations, the building, the bookstore . . . and his attraction
to Via. She was the biggest disruption of all.