Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Honey
She looked tired today. I wanted so much to just go over and bring her a cup of tea, but past experiences told me she’d reject it.
The kids were being especially ornery today, and I wished that Mom or Dad would take them home, to be honest. Their passion for helping with the family business lasted about an hour and then all they wanted was to be hanging out with their friends, or playing games, or literally anywhere else but the marketplace, with the exception of Ellie, who was my main helper.
It was hard keeping them entertained, but at least they were well-behaved. Sure, Ember wore a perpetual frown and glared at people most of the day, but Ellie and Archer were willing to help me keep things going. Mom and Dad would hang out for a few hours and be present, but every day they’d wander off to go chat with one of the other vendors or they’d need to be back on the farm for tours or classes or to tend things.
I always told myself the best part of working for a family business was getting to work with your family. The worst part of working for a family business was getting to work with your family.
Since I was the oldest by eight years, it meant that someone had to hold everything together. Someone had to make sure we ordered enough jars and that we had enough inventory and to take care of pesky things like “taxes” and “licensing” and the rest of the hurdles you had to jump to run a profitable business.
I loved my parents, so much, but they were so much better at being on the farm and managing the bees than here at the marketplace trying to sell anything. I’d told them that I could manage the table by myself, but they always said that we did everything as a family, so we were doing this together or not at all. Yet more often than not, I was doing it all by myself.
“Pleaseeee can I go hang out with Harper and Olivia and Kyra? Harper said she’d pick me up,” Ember said, looking up from her phone.
We’d opened an hour ago and since the weather was gorgeous, it was a slow morning. We tended to do best when the weather was cloudy or rainy, causing people to seek indoor activities instead of going out on a boat or to the beach or the pier.
“They’re going to the beach and everyone is going to be there,” Ember said with all the intensity of someone who is sixteen. I remembered being that age so well.
I sighed. If I didn’t let her go, she’d be in a snit for the rest of the day and I didn’t want to deal with another sulky teenager.
“You can go, but remember your sunscreen, please.”
She answered me with an eyeroll. Letting her get in the car with another teen driver made me feel like I was going to break out into hives, but my parents were far more laissez-faire about parenting. It was hard being the only strict one, because I wasn’t Ember’s mom. I was her older sister and I had less authority, especially when what she wanted to do coordinated with what my parents allowed.
Ember squealed and ran off with her bag, which no doubt had a change of clothes in it so her friends didn’t see her wearing her Holloway Apiary T-shirt.
“Well, it’s just us now,” I said to Archer and Ellie. Archer was already gaming, but Ellie gave me a smile. Of all the kids, she was the one who helped the most.
“Wanna help me hand out tea and samples?” I asked her. She nodded. Ellie was friendly, and with her almost white-blonde curls and bright smile, people were just drawn to her.
A few potential customers wandered over to see what was going on and I handed out some honey stick samples and gave out cups of tea. I hated the waste of using disposable cups, but at least the marketplace had recycling bins, and the cups we used were also made from recycled paper.
I chatted with people, giving the history of how the farm was started as a hobby by my parents after they retired from teaching music and then turned into a family business. I also handed out the postcards with the family picture on them and more information on the back.
“And we do tours and classes all year round,” I added. That was another area where my parents excelled. They hadn’t wanted to monetize the classes and tours at first, but I’d had to sit them down and give them the cold hard reality that if we didn’t diversify our income as much as possible, the farm wasn’t going to survive. They might not like to think about things like bills and taxes, but those things could put us out of business.
In addition to working for the farm, I also had a side hustle removing and relocating bee colonies and had grown a following on social media when I posted videos of my work. Jobs were few and far between, but I also did short videos centered on education around bees and how we made our honey and beeswax candles and balms. I’d honed my public speaking skills from doing dozens of tours, and the videos did fairly well after I’d done some experimentation. It also didn’t escape my notice that when I was in the videos with full hair and makeup and wearing something cute, they did better. Irritating, but true.
The kids wanted to get in on the videos, but I’d only agreed to let Ember and she didn’t want to. Archer and Ellie were still too young. Besides, I had an additional reason to keep Ellie specifically out of the spotlight. No views were worth potentially exposing my trans sister to the horrors of the internet. Her life so far had been mostly sheltered and I wanted to keep her in a safe place as long as I possibly could. My parents and I were on the same page about that at least.
“Yes, they’re all handmade,” I heard Bren say. Her voice might have been bright, but I’d heard her enough times to know she was tired. Bren was never directly rude, and she was always smiling (somewhat), but I could see the strain on her face by Sunday afternoon. I knew exactly how she felt. I just managed to hide it better.
Ignoring Bren wasn’t an easy task. Not only was I obsessed with everything she made, she was also completely and utterly gorgeous . Silky dark hair and brooding dark eyes and a mysterious vibe about her that made me want to lean closer so she could whisper secrets in my ear.
That she was a hard worker only made her more attractive in my eyes. She busted her ass every day with no help. I’d offered many times to watch her table so she could take a break, but she always turned me down.
Determined to do it on her own, I guess. Something I could understand, but eventually, you had to let someone help you. I might have had to pick up the slack for my parents, but I still had them and wouldn’t have been able to run the farm without their work and passion.
Bren was beautiful and having her so close made it so hard to focus that my siblings had started teasing me about her. Luckily, I didn’t think Bren had heard any of it, or else I would have died of mortification.
Bren wasn’t the kind of woman who went out with someone like me. The most I could ever hope for was “cute,” but Bren was stunning and sexy and could have anyone she wanted.
And then there was the fact that I knew my family annoyed her. She probably thought she hid it well, but she didn’t. I’d catch her rolling her eyes and clenching her jaw when we’d sing in the morning. My parents were very musical people, as well as bee enthusiasts, so not a day went by when we weren’t singing together. I think if my mom had been able to have more children, she might have forced us to become a traveling singing group instead. My siblings all played various instruments, me included, but singing had always been what I’d enjoyed most. If I’d gone to college, I might have majored in vocal performance. Maybe. There was no reason to speculate because it didn’t happen.
I let myself have another glance at Bren. I made sure I didn’t look at her too many times per hour, and once I’d used up my looks for the day, I was done until we said goodbye.
I still remembered the first time we’d set up our table and how chaotic it had been. My parents had argued about where everything should go, even though we’d already agreed on the setup and I’d drawn a layout to make sure everything was in the right place.
I’d looked over at Bren and she’d given me this absolutely horrified look that almost made me laugh out loud before she’d turned away, her cheeks going a little pink.
“She’s pretty,” Ellie had whispered to me.
“Yes, she is,” I’d agreed.
The rest of the day, I’d barely been able to focus on anything but on Bren. I’d strained my ears to hear her voice when she talked to customers or to see her face when she didn’t know I was looking.
“Pretty” was an insult to her. Bren was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen in my entire life, and that was no exaggeration.
Growing up, I’d always known girls and women were lovely, but it wasn’t until I was a teenager that I realized not everyone thought the way I did. My parents had been both unsurprised and supportive when I came out as a lesbian. I guess I’d kind of paved the way for my siblings because Ellie had come out as a trans girl and Ember was questioning her sexuality and hadn’t settled on a label yet. Archer grumbled that he was the token cis and heterosexual kid in the family.
Bren sighed and my ears picked up on it. I seemed to be attuned to her every breath now. So distracting.
Normally I wouldn’t do anything, but after a quick glance over at her, I could see that she needed something . We had a lovely orange spice tea today that was absolutely heaven with our honey, so I poured a cup, added honey, and stirred it to make sure it was incorporated before straightening my shoulders and walking a few feet to her table.
“It’s on the house,” I said, holding out the tea as she glanced up at me. Bren almost never sat down, so that was how I knew things were serious.
“What?” she asked, confused at my bad attempt at a joke.
“Sorry. I just… You seemed like you could use this. There’s no caffeine in it, though.” Great, now I was babbling. She brought it out in me.
Bren looked from my face to the cup and back again.
“I don’t drink tea,” she said.
Undeterred, I kept holding it out to her. I’d set it down, but then there was a chance it would spill on her things and I’d feel horrible about that.
“It’s really good, I promise. You’ll like it.”
Bren let out another sigh, this one tinged with more irritation, but she reached out one hand and took the cup from me.
“You promise I’ll like it? That’s bold. What if I hate it?” she asked, the cup suspended a few inches in front of her mouth.
“You won’t,” I said with more confidence than I felt.
Bren raised one dark eyebrow and then sipped the tea. I could hear Ellie and Archer talking to customers at our table, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Bren as she carefully sipped and swallowed, her elegant throat working. For a moment, I entertained the thought of licking that throat. Of sucking on it until it was covered in marks from me.
It was a really good thing that Bren couldn’t read my scandalous thoughts. No doubt she’d be horrified.
Bren’s eyes narrowed as she considered the tea before she let out yet another sigh. Those seemed to be her response of choice.
“It’s fine,” she said, but that probably meant it was delicious. Bren seemed like the kind of person who would deny that she liked anything.
“Great. If you want any more, you know where I am.” I wanted to say something else, but I just kind of smiled at her and then Ellie got my attention to help with a customer who wanted to buy some candles.
I turned away from Bren, but I could feel her eyes on my back. Good thing she couldn’t see me blushing.
It was a huge relief to pack everything up at the marketplace for the week and return home.
Technically, I still lived with my parents on the farm, but in my own apartment that was on the second floor of the barn. It gave me privacy, but still let me see everyone whenever I wanted or needed.
The quiet that greeted me after I came back from having dinner with the family made the tension in my body instantly evaporate. I moved around the space, lighting one of my many candles. I’d formulated this particular scent myself and it was a blood orange and tonka mix that I was obsessed with. There were some parts of my job that I absolutely loved and helping make the scent blends for our candles was one of them. It had been a family decision, but I’d really gotten into it and had totally thrown myself into smelling a million things when we’d been ordering test scents.
My apartment was cozy and filled with all the things I loved: pictures of my siblings and of the farm, bright warm rugs, my watercolors, and a ton of bee items. You’d think that having an apiary would mean I’d be sick of bees, but I wasn’t. Having them around in any form made me happy. Jumbled stacks and piles of books were everywhere, which I thought made the place cozier.
The one place that I kept scrupulously organized was my desk. I had a gorgeous desktop monitor and my favorite pens and a cute little ceramic bee lamp that I’d bought at a yard sale five years ago.
In addition to managing things at the market, I did all of the work on the website, handled a lot of the customer service and business email account, shipping, and a million other things.
Doing anything that required brain power or math was out of the question right now, and I’d learned that the hard way. Monday I’d be up bright and early to tackle a few website updates and emails, but for right now, my brain needed a break, so I logged into my social media accounts and saw a message from one of my favorite people.
Why do happy people piss me off so much?
I laughed and typed out a quick response.
Because your heart is full of darkness and shadows.
Her response was quick. Ohhh, isn’t that poetic? It makes me sound deep and not like a total bitch.
I snorted. Don’t worry. I know you’re still a bitch.
I’d met my friend @Bibliofile about a year ago on a fanfic site. We’d found each other in the comments of several fics and I’d loved her observations. From there, we’d followed each other on social media and had started sending each other links to new fics we thought the other might like. Pretty soon we were talking about everything from the logistics of time travel, to sharing our favorite soup recipes (I was more of a cook than she was), to which member of The L Word cast we’d fuck, marry, kill. I knew we were going to be friends for a long time when we both said to kill Jenny, in spite of her already being dead.
I would want to resurrect her via necromancy and then kill her again she’d said.
One rule we’d made for each other early on: no personal details. Other than her age, her gender, and the fact that she was a lesbian, I didn’t know where she lived, other than in the US. Sure, I’d read between the lines of her message and gleaned that she was probably in the same time zone and probably in New England. But there was an allure to the mystery for some reason. Not sharing many details had been her idea at first, and I’d thought it was because she was hiding something. That could still be the case, but after all this time of talking to her nearly all day, every day, I think I was safe in saying that I knew her.
And she knew me.
I’m watching it again she sent.
“It” was one of the shows we had both seen that had killed off the lesbian character because queer women weren’t allowed to be happy apparently.
Why are you doing that? It’s only going to make you mad and send me a million ranty messages in the middle of the night. I responded.
One thing about her, she’d go off at any time of day. It was so funny when I’d put my phone away while I was serving customers or working on the farm and I’d come back to a string of messages from her about something completely random. I loved getting them, even if I had no idea what had set her off. More often than not they made me laugh. Her sense of humor was dry and could be biting, but she didn’t hold herself back with me. At least, I didn’t think she did. It wasn’t like I could know for sure.
You like my ranty messages she said.
It was true. I did. Bibliofile was pretty much one of my favorite people in the entire world. I had a few friends that I hung out with, but my duties toward my family and the farm meant that social time was put on the back burner more often than not. Besides, I felt like my life was different than a lot of people my age. I had the farm, and my siblings, and I hadn’t been able to go away to college. My parents had encouraged me, but the reality was that someone had to keep everything together. Not to mention the money. I didn’t have enough in my bank account and financial aid wouldn’t have covered everything. It wasn’t even worth trying to go for something that was so far out of reach. So I’d taken classes online and learned on my own.
It was easier to not even think about college as an option than to entertain it and then be disappointed.
I’d been scrappy and motivated and done everything on my own. I mean, my parents hadn’t known shit about owning a farm when they’d bought this place. The previous owners had died, and the place had been pretty much abandoned until the bank took possession. Using inheritance money from my mom’s parents, they’d turned the place around and decided to focus their time and energy on bees.
Bibliofile interrupted my ruminating.
Do you ever get annoyed by someone but you can’t put your finger on why? They haven’t done anything, but they just rub you the wrong way.
I smiled.
All. The. Time. Literally all the time. Usually I find out that there was a reason for my initial feelings, and they’re validated in time. For a long time I didn’t trust my instincts about people and I made a lot of mistakes.
That was for sure. My only relationships and the subsequent breakups had been complete and total disasters. Epic and embarrassing disasters. That was one of the things that I hadn’t told Bibliofile, because it was on the “too personal” list.
That’s true. I guess I just haven’t figured out why she’s bad news. I’ll keep you updated. Good mice.
That made me laugh. When we’d first started talking, we’d signed off for the night by telling each other goodnight, but an autocorrect one late night had given us “good mice” and it had stuck.
Good mice to you too.