Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
Ryan
E veryone’s face is lit up brighter than the lights outside. I nod and smile as I follow Erica down the bus aisle to an empty row in the back.
“Howdy, neighbor.”
We turn to an older couple in the seat across from us.
“Paul. Ms. Dot.” Erica waves and gives a tense smile, then faces straight ahead.
About a dozen heads turn toward the front when they make eye contact with her.
“I’ve never had such an attentive welcome.”
Erica sighs and raises a brow at me. “Welcome to Apple Cart County.”
I laugh. A loud beep quiets all the whispers around us. The driver talks into a walkie-talkie that echoes into overhead speakers.
“As most of you know, I’m Morgan, and I will be your tour guide for the evening. Conveniently, our first stop is the Apple Cart County Apple Orchard, along with several homes owned by the Marshall family here on the property.”
I sit back and look out the window at the lights. It’s a nice view, especially since it includes Erica’s profile. I study her jawline and brown eyes.
It’s crazy for me to think that about someone who I may never see again after a few days. Then again, that makes me want to spend as much time with her as I can. Even if it can’t go anywhere, I’m having too much fun getting to know her.
She turns to me, and I blink. Maybe she didn’t sense how long I’ve been staring at her.
“You never told me exactly why you came here.”
That’s a fair enough question, especially from a hometown girl.
“The big draw was the bake-off, but also the orchard and all of Apple Cart County. I like to visit other rural areas for inspiration.”
“Inspiration?” She tilts her head, studying me this time.
“Yeah. I like to travel to different rural areas and learn about their heritage and traditions.” I nod toward the window. “Like that mansion. What’s the deal with a house that fancy across from cows?”
She laughs. The driver speaks again before Erica can.
“To your right is the old Vanderburke Mansion, now the home of MLB pitching legend Nate ‘the Great’ Miller.”
“Well, that answers my question.” I smile at Erica.
“Fun fact, Nate the Great is engaged to my first cousin.”
“Really?”
She nods. “Brooke. They were the people with the kid when you picked me up.”
“Oh yeah. The same girl from the restaurant.”
“Yep.”
We turn onto a main road, and Morgan announces the decorated houses as we pass. The next long drive we go down leads to Gamer’s Paradise. It’s worthy of a magazine cover and nothing like I imagined a hunting destination would be.
There is a Christmas tree made of hay bales with a spotlight on it. Morgan explains that they added this for decoration to deflect from the shooting-range tree painted on a pile of dirt. Of course that makes everyone look for the pile of dirt even more.
“We paint hay like pumpkins back home.”
“That sounds fun.” Erica grins.
I glance at my feet, not sure why I randomly offered that information. I decide to steer the conversation away from me, so she won’t ask more about my work.
“So, the bake-off. Your mom and aunt made some good-looking pies.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure which one we’ll enter yet, but I’m leaning toward the cinnamon apple.”
“That sounds good.”
The bus drives through downtown Apple Cart. I watch a huge Santa blow on top of the Piggly Wiggly when we stop in the parking lot. Half the people get off, including the older couple beside us. I turn to Erica, confused.
Morgan announces, “We’d like to say good night to the GAP ministry. It’s always a pleasure to have God’s Active People joining us. We invite the rest of you to stay put for the Wisteria leg of the tour.”
Erica shrugs. A few new people get on the bus, including Woody. They fill the front seats, leaving Erica and me alone. I’m glad Woody hasn’t noticed us, or he’d likely sit beside us.
We laugh at the conversations we overhear, especially from the woman with Woody, who randomly sings parts of “Hard Candy Christmas.” Erica fills me in on his wife, Misty, who leads a caroling group every year.
After a few miles, we pass their RV where I’m staying. Woody brags about how many lights he added this year.
“No wonder you can’t sleep.”
I nod at Erica. Next is Double Drive. It’s the main attraction, with tons of lights and blowups across a large mini-golf course. A couple dressed like Santa and Mrs. Clause wave to us from the entrance.
“That’s the owner and his girlfriend,” Erica says. “They met when she filmed a documentary on his mom’s cookies.”
“Carla’s Cookies?”
“Yep.”
“I read about that before I saw them at the cow drop.”
“You read a lot, huh?”
“About stuff I’m interested in.”
“So, you were interested in my blog?” Her mouth hitches at the corner.
“Totally.”
Her eyes twinkle in the Christmas lights reflecting behind us. I watch her a second longer, then look ahead to keep from making her uncomfortable.
We spend the remainder of the trip talking about our childhood and college days, then land back at Apple Cart Baptist, where I got on the bus.
“That was fun,” Erica says. “It was almost like I was seeing all this for the first time.”
We stand, but I’m not ready to go. I don’t want to call it a night just yet. Woody stretches and leans back, then spots me. “Hey, Ryan.”
“Woody. How’s it going?”
“You want to come to supper after this at G-Maw’s?”
I turn to Erica. “If I can bring a date?”
Erica
T ake a date.
That’s what the man said. Now what he meant by that is up for interpretation.
I slant my eyes at Ryan to try and read his expression. He’s watching the road ahead, and it’s dark, so that doesn’t offer much help. But from what I can see, he looks happy. Content, at the least.
With him, mutual silence and small talk are equally comfortable. That’s rare, and one of the reasons I enjoy his company.
He parks at the RV and squints his eyes. “I’ve got to talk to Woody about this.”
“I thought you said it was on a timer.”
“Yeah. It goes off at three a.m. and comes back on at dusk.”
I laugh.
“I try and nap, but the goats next door are loud during the day.”
I nod and unbuckle. Several cars line G-Maw’s house. She’s not in our family, but insists we call her G-Maw, as does everyone else in the county.
“Should we have brought something?” I ask.
“Woody said she’ll have everything.”
“Seems like an awful lot of people to feed.” I cross the driveway into her yard.
A goat bleats, catching me off guard. I jump back, and Ryan steadies me. I relax against him for a second before straightening. “Thanks.”
“Now imagine that sound all waking hours.”
“Ugh.”
He laughs. “That’s why we keep our petting zoo a good distance from my parents’ house.”
“Smart.”
We step onto the carport, and Ryan gives me a puzzled look.
“Yes, that’s Astroturf. The people who did the church soccer field covered it. G-Maw is scared of falling.”
“Interesting.”
“Yeah, add that to your small-town research,” I joke.
The front door swings open to Woody holding his chihuahuas. One snips at me.
“Oh goodness.”
“Sorry about that. She’s pregnant and ornery as an old wet hen.” He leans against the storm door, holding it open for us to enter.
For the second time tonight, everyone stares at us. Lacie Sanderson—I can’t recall her married name—waves at me from the couch. I wave back. She was at Wisteria High when I was in school at Apple Cart.
G-Maw shuffles toward us. She’s a tiny lady with the same short curly gray hair that ninety percent of people over seventy-five wear around here.
“Hi, welcome. It’s real informal around here. After Earl prays, get you a plate and go through the line in the kitchen.” She fans her hand toward the kitchen opening.
“Yes, ma’am.” I smile.
“Thanks for the invite,” Ryan adds.
“Thanks for finally coming over.” G-Maw pats him on the arm.
“Let us pray.” Earl puts his cap across his heart and closes his eyes.
We bow our heads. He thanks God for everything from pistols to pie before saying “amen.”
Everyone crowds in the small opening between the kitchen and living room. We hang back from the masses, and Lacie finds me.
“Hey, how have you been?”
“Good.” I smile at the baby in her arms. “Is he yours?”
“Yes.”
The baby coos.
“He’s almost a year.” She kisses his cheek and smiles at me.
“And you’re still in Atlanta?”
She nods. “Yeah. My parents actually come visit me now that they have a grandchild there.” She laughs. “We’re in the suburbs now, so it’s a good place to raise this little bundle.” The last few words come out in a baby voice.
“Y’all better get some food.” G-Maw steps between us and hands out Styrofoam plates big enough to hold a whole turkey.
We both take a plate. The baby whines and spits up on Lacie. She winces.
“I better go take care of this first.” She clenches her teeth. “It was good seeing you, Erica. You two make a cute couple.”
I follow her nod to Ryan, who smiles at me from across the room. I turn to correct her, but she’s already rushing away with the baby.
Ryan walks toward me and holds up his own plate. “Looks like the line has died down if you’re hungry.”
We get behind Earl Ed, who’s still wearing the pants from his Santa costume. He and Ryan fall into a conversation that lets me know they’ve met. Ryan includes me in their talk about baking.
I’m with a family I casually know from across the county and a guy I met a few days earlier, about to eat what smells like fresh vegetables and cornbread. This should feel weird, but Ryan somehow makes it feel natural.
Earl Ed talks about entering the contest, as does G-Maw. She compliments our apples, saying she plans to use them in her dessert. My stomach churns, as I’d hoped we’d be the only apple dessert. But you can’t deny an older woman her recipe.
We laugh and talk for well over an hour before Woody and G-Maw stand on the porch to wave us good night. Ryan drives me to the orchard and parks.
“Thanks for going with me.” He faces me and grins.
“Thanks for the invite. That was fun.”
I fumble for my purse on the floorboard. When I lift my face, he’s staring at me. I lean up, and we’re close enough for me to feel his breath.
“If I weren’t leaving tomorrow night, I’d ask if I could kiss you,” he whispers.
My chest tightens as my heart thumps against it. I can’t say I don’t want him to, but he is leaving. That fact brings me to my senses. I scoot back and reach for the door.
“If you weren’t leaving, I’d be tempted to let you.”
Ryan smirks as I climb out of the car.
“Good night, Erica.” He blows me a kiss.
I close the door, then slide in my car before any of my family has a chance to come out here.