Chapter 5 #2
The minute I get close enough to see the computer screen, Mom hits a key, and it goes to screensaver. Thwarted again!
“That’s the last of the ribbon,” Charlotte announces. “Want to help me deliver the bows to Sara? I’ll introduce you,” she says to me.
Sara? Who is Sara? Did Mom tell me about Sara? “Sure,” I reply, not wanting to admit I have no idea who she’s talking about. I hurry back over and tie the last few ribbon pieces into bows.
“Oh, introduce her to Jesse too,” Mom says, waving her hand back and forth again.
Jesse? Now that name sounds familiar. They hired him a year or so ago to do... something. God. Do I have dementia?
Charlotte grabs a big fabric bag from a hook behind the counter and sweeps all the orange bows into it. “Let’s go,” she says. “Be back in a little while, Lucy,” she tells Mom.
I follow Charlotte out the front door. I’m glad to have a few minutes alone with her, because I have questions.
We step onto the porch, and a crisp autumn breeze hits my face.
I breathe in the leaves and wood smoke. Charlotte and I make our way down the porch steps to walk along the stone pathway between the house and the food barn.
After last night’s rain, there are a few puddles here and there, but the grass is a bright, shiny green and the leaves have just begun to turn.
Only a few have fallen, but they are obviously preparing themselves.
The color is just about to pop. That rain helped.
The air is crisp but not yet cold. I love fall so much .
I’d actually forgotten how much I love it.
In the city I would venture to the park if I had time, but here the whole world feels like the season has changed.
You can smell it in the air. You can feel it.
I close my eyes and breathe it in. It catapults me back to my childhood.
I’ve definitely been away too long. And I don’t know why, exactly.
All my important reasons seem pretty lame now.
The thought brings unexpected tears to my eyes.
I make a promise to myself to come out here every fall.
At least once. That way, maybe I won’t be treated like the prodigal daughter when I show up.
And I won’t have to pretend I know everyone’s name.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Charlotte says, pulling me from my thoughts. “I took your boots, coat, and hat into your parents’ place and cleaned them this morning. I can bring them up later if you want.”
My face heats. I’d honestly totally forgotten about my dirty coat and boots. I shouldn’t have left them out here all night for guests to see. Between that and the underwear, I guess I’m kind of a slob. It used to drive Geoff nuts. “You cleaned them?”
“Yep, well, the boots are suede, so I just brushed them. But they’ve dried, and they look really good. I hope you don’t mind,” she repeats.
“Mind? No. Not at all. Thank you. I’m sorry I left them for you to deal with. I forgot they were there.”
“It’s no bother.” Charlotte gives me a big, bright smile.
I blink. I’m overwhelmed by some emotion I can’t define.
When was the last time someone did me a favor like that?
I honestly can’t remember. I’ve been used to taking care of myself for so long.
It actually feels good to be taken care of even the tiniest bit.
I mean, Maria and I take care of each other, but we’re both super independent.
For example, one time I was home with a cold, and she sent me some chicken soup from a delivery app. That was nice.
But the mention of my muddy clothes reminds me of Miss Guinevere, and now I glance in every direction, scouring the area like I’m in the Hunger Games. “Are the goats out?”
“Nope,” Charlotte says with a laugh. “They’re always in the barn in the morning.”
Despite Charlotte’s promise, I remain vigilant, because frankly, I think that’s where Miss Guin was supposed to be last night when she knocked me over like a bowling pin.
“Donny’s in charge of making sure they’re penned. He was at bingo last night,” Charlotte continues.
“Ah, I see.” I am finally able to relax a little. “So, which one is the food barn?” I ask, slightly chagrined because I don’t know. It used to be the big one in the middle, but now I’m not completely sure.
“The big one in the middle,” Charlotte replies, giving me a sideways smile. “You haven’t been gone that long, Ellie.”
I return her smile. That’s nice of her to say. And it’s almost as if she can read my mind. Because between wondering if the inn is in trouble and whether either or both of my parents have dementia, I’ve been feeling pretty awful.
And it really is nice here. I lift my face toward the sun.
The wind blows through the leaves on the trees, making them rustle.
The orchards spread out on the other side of the winding road that leads from the highway.
There is a pumpkin patch squared off with a rough-hewn log fence, and apple barrels line the drive up to the inn.
Why don’t I come out here more often? I’ve been ignoring this place because of my job and my boyfriend. Both of which just let me down.
I sigh. Why are mistakes only obvious after you make them? It’d be so much more helpful if the Universe could give you a big ol’ heads-up before you do something stupid. I guess that’s what intuition is. Mine told me not to get romantically involved with a coworker. But did I listen? I did not.
“So, how was it rooming with Aiden last night?” Charlotte asks, thankfully distracting me from my guilty thoughts again.
“It’s...” How shall I put this? Especially to his sister ? “He looks a lot different than I remember.” The moment I say the words, I regret them. What is Charlotte supposed to do with that? I need to save comments about Aiden’s looks for my next long talk with Maria, where they belong.
“When’s the last time you saw him?” Charlotte asks next, hitching the bag on her shoulder.
I shrug and wrinkle my nose. Honestly, I spent way too much time after I climbed in bed last night trying to remember the answer to this very question.
“Must be at least four or five years.” And even then, I think I just saw him from afar in passing.
Which is no doubt why I didn’t notice how hot he is.
Clearly, I need to pay better attention to detail.
“Yeah, there’ve been some changes around here since you’ve been gone,” Charlotte says.
It’s a tone completely unlike her brother’s, which was decidedly judgy.
She was always a nice little girl. I remember her playing dress-up a lot and begging for a pony.
She finally got a horse. It lives in the barn with the goats. Persistence pays off.
I want to ask Charlotte what she means exactly about the changes around here. I want to ask her how the inn is doing. If everything is okay out here. If she’s noticed any signs of dementia in anyone. I open my mouth to begin the interrogation.
“Do you remember Sawyer?” she asks instead. The question throws me, because there’s something about the way she says his name that makes my ears perk up a little.
“Sawyer?” I rack my brain, but that name isn’t ringing any bells either.
“He’s one of the farmhands who works at the orchard. Dad hired him about six years ago.”
“You friends with him?” I ask, glancing at Charlotte to see if I can get any more Sawyer information from her very telling face.
She promptly blushes. “Yeah, we’re friends.” A shy smile spreads across her lips.
I would love to ask more, but we’ve made it to the entrance of the food barn, and Charlotte swings one of the big brown wooden doors open. “Here we are,” she announces.
The moment we step inside the giant space, a familiar scent hits my nostrils.
All sugary sweet and cinnamony and delightful.
“Apple cider donuts!” I shout. Is there any better smell in the world?
I close my eyes and breathe it in. “I haven’t had one in years.
” I feel as if I’m lifted off my feet and am floating in the air toward the scent like a cartoon character.
“Oh, that’s just wrong,” Charlotte says, laughing. “And Sara’s donuts are the best , so you’re in for a real treat.”
So, Sara must be the new baker. I swear I don’t remember Mom talking about anyone named Sara.
The barn is huge and filled with picnic tables with black-and-white checkered tablecloths. To the right is the brewery area with a long wood-hewn bar and high-top stools in front.
The left side of the barn is the bakery area, and that is where Charlotte is headed, so I follow.
Last I knew, a lady named Susie worked out here and made some pumpkin-flavored cookies and sold the donuts Mom made in her kitchen in the inn.
Now I can already see that the operation has greatly changed.
The entire barn has changed, really. It looks great.
But I can’t help but wonder if all these big changes and new employees like Sara and Jesse are why the business may be struggling.
Did Mom and Dad and the Parkers overspend?
Barrels line the walls, and hay is not only scattered nearby, but there are bales every few feet too.
Big silver stars hang from glittery ropes from the ceiling.
They fall at different heights above the tables.
There are apples and pumpkins and gourds on nearly every surface.
There are dried cornstalks and mums and artfully scattered fake leaves.
Despite the size of the barn, it is homey and cozy and smells like a dream in here.