6. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Y ay, me. I’ve rallied for the evening. Once the craft and vendor show closed for the day, I ran home, took a twenty-minute power nap, showered, and am almost ready to go.
Chloe is pacing around my living room. She keeps looking out the front window at the growing crowd. The line for hayrack rides starts at the end of the block, and she’s trying to see how many people are already queuing up.
“Do you really think Ray will be there?” she asks, returning to the door of the bathroom, where I am curling my hair.
“Hunter said he was.”
“He could be lying.”
“Why would he do that?” I ask.
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe you don’t want to get your hopes up?”
“I know better than that.” She lets out a huff. “Ray Toft has never given me the time of day. ”
“You have to ask him for the time in order for him to answer.”
“Maybe. Although I’m always friendly to him, he doesn’t seem to get the hint.”
“He’s shy. You might have to be bolder.”
She raises an eyebrow at me. Yeah, she’s right. Chloe’s always been bold. Class president, head cheerleader, voted most likely to succeed.
She’s never met a stranger. She’s as bold as they come.
“All right. Maybe you’re going to have to ask him out.”
“Never!”
She stomps away from me and goes back to the window. “Are you almost ready? We should be down there.”
I look at myself in the mirror. Why am I bothering? We’re going on a hayrack ride, and it’s windy. I’ll probably pull my hair into a ponytail in five minutes. I’m more concerned with function than with form, and I hate it when my hair flies across my face.
The few curls around my face are more waves than curls. My long, dark brown hair is naturally straight. I try to give it shape, but it prefers to just hang like tinsel on the Christmas tree.
I’ve applied some makeup—brown eyeliner, a little mascara, a swipe of light cream eye shadow and a dab of blush. I want to look natural but like I put some effort in.
My mind wanders to Hunter, which it’s been doing a lot lately. I haven’t asked if he’s seeing anyone. Maybe I should. What if he says yes? Will I be relieved or disappointed?
I throw on my favorite blue and tan flannel jacket and tell Chloe I’m ready .
The evening air is cool and crisp, perfect for a hayrack ride and a bonfire.
Since we live downtown, we only have to walk downstairs to get in line.
Chloe leads the way down the staircase. It’s at the back of the building, completely enclosed, protected from the elements, and secure.
The door at the bottom of the stairs leads out to the back alley where we park our cars under a carport.
Living in a small town, I’m never concerned with going in or out late at night. The police station is in the building next to the carport. Convenient.
Outside, Chloe grabs my hand and pulls me towards the cross street, which is on the opposite side of where we need to get in line.
“What are you doing?”
“Let’s circle the block, see who’s out milling around before we get in line. I told Hunter to meet us in front of Lil’ Pumpkin?”
Did she tell me that?
“You’re eager to see Ray, aren’t you? I thought we told Hunter we’d catch up at the farm.”
“Yes, at first, but then I went back and told him it would be fun to ride out there together.”
“Could have told me.” I need time to prepare for these encounters.
I don’t know if I can do all this togetherness with Hunter. Before seeing him on Friday, I thought I knew him. I mean, I’ve known him since kindergarten and thought I had a clear handle on the person he was—hardheaded, competitive, arrogant, and a jerk .
That’s not the guy who showed up on Friday. This Hunter seems more reserved, more careful, more considerate.
More handsome. Funnier. Sweeter.
And I don’t know what to do with this new information.
Three tractors pulling hayracks line the street by the waiting area. Hayracks are flatbed trailers, about fifteen feet long, with bales of hay to sit on.
We’re ushered onto the middle trailer and lined up like crayons in a crayon box. Somehow, Chloe finagled our way onto the ride so that Raymond was the first one on. She followed him and dragged me behind her; Hunter followed. So, I’m sitting between Chloe and Hunter.
Across from us is a family with three kids. Each of the kids has a small bag of popcorn, and the smell makes my stomach growl. I should have eaten dinner. There will be food options at the farm, but…
“Is that your stomach again, Slugger?” Hunter asks, leaning towards me. “Do you ever eat?”
“I wanted to wait until we got to the farm. My cousin Annie sells the most amazing caramel apples.”
He chuckles. “A caramel apple doesn’t make for a well-rounded dinner.”
The tractor starts up with a sputter and a shake, and the little girl across from me nearly drops her popcorn bag.
Her father secures it and pulls her close.
He obviously chose that side because the tall rail would prevent the kids from falling off.
There’s no rail on our side, and I remind myself to be careful.
“There will be other things,” I protest.
I could make a dinner out of caramel apples. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Chloe asks if we’re all game for doing the corn maze after the sun sets, when it’s dark. Hunter and Ray quickly agree, and she gives me a look that says, “I won’t talk to you for weeks if you say no.”
“Sure,” I agree. Tomorrow is the last day of the craft fair, and I need to be firing on all cylinders. A late night might put a damper on that, but I can’t say no to Chloe.
We near the lane to Four Seasons Farm and take a hard right turn. The hayrack rocks wildly when it hits a pothole on the small incline. Even sitting, I lose my balance and tilt backwards.
Hunter’s arm goes around my shoulders to keep me from rolling off the wagon.
“Whoa!” I shriek, tightening my stomach muscles to stay in my seat.
“Easy,” Hunter says, pulling me to his side.
The hayrack straightens, and everyone remains sitting. No one is ejected. Hurrah!
Now that we’ve straightened, I expect Hunter to remove his arm. He doesn’t and it feels nice, comforting. I wish I had waited to put on my flannel jacket, so there would be fewer layers between me and his arm.
Too soon, the tractor pulls to a stop and everyone disembarks. Hunter gets off first and extends his hand for me while I climb down the short stepladder used for getting on and off the ride .
I’m tempted to pull his hand to me and tuck it under my arm to keep him close.
But I let go. I’m cool. Everything’s cool. We are not an item. Hunter then helps Chloe down, and Ray follows her.
“What should we do first?” Chloe asks, ready to take charge, as usual. (And they say the older sibling is the bossy one!)
“I think Slugger needs to eat,” Hunter replies. “I’ve heard her stomach growl three times.”
“Hey!” I reply to Hunter’s comment. My cheeks flush, but his teasing makes me smile. He’s not wrong. “I’m not in a hurry. Whatever everyone else wants to do is fine by me.”
“I’m hungry,” Ray says, and he’s suddenly my hero.
“Let’s eat!” Chloe exclaims.
We stroll past the three food trucks on the property. I get a whiff of BBQ, burgers, and pizza at the same time.
Everyone decides on BBQ, and we make our selections and head towards a large area which is dotted with hay bales for seating.
As we sit, my eyes scan the crowd, looking for family.
I spot cousin Whitney and Aunt Dana. They approach us and ask how the ride out was.
Aunt Dana worries that the hayracks will eventually lose their luster and everyone will want to drive out here and park in a field.
She’s a firm advocate of keeping the tractor and hayrack system.
“It was great,” Chloe enthuses. “Phoebe almost fell off, but Hunter caught her!”
Aunt Dana’s eyebrows rise so far up, they’re hidden behind her light brown bangs; her eyes widen. “What? Gracious. Good thing you were there, Hunter. What happened?”
“A bump, a hill, and a bounce that caught me off guard. I’m fine. It was fine.” I hope my words are reassuring.
Whitney throws an arm around her mom. “She’s fine, Momma! Don’t worry. Plenty of other things to worry about.”
Whitney is two years older than me. She’s hardworking, responsible for all the special events at the farm.
You would think Jackson or Glenn would take over the farm when their parents retire, but my money is on Whitney.
Besides the fall festival, they have a tulip festival in the spring, a German-style Christmas market in December, and a strawberry festival during the summer.
I love these events because they remind us of how integral our existence is with the land.
Seasonal thanks and gratitude to Mother Nature.
Someone yells for Whitney, and they hurry away.
We finish our food, and I want to move around before buying a caramel apple.
“Want to visit the animals in the barn?” I ask.
“Sure,” Hunter says, standing and offering to take everyone’s plates to throw away.
Chloe groans. “No, if we go in there, Phoebe, someone will make us work.”
I laugh. “I don’t mind.”
“Well, I do,” Chloe says. “Ray, want to visit the pumpkin patch?”
He nods.
“Meet us at the maze entrance in an hour?” I ask .
Everyone agrees, and Hunter and I make our way to the barn.
This is my favorite part of every visit to the farm. I love seeing the sheep, baby cows, piglets, and bunnies.
Inside the barn, my cousin Glenn is holding a white rabbit and talking to a small group that has formed around him and the adorable bunny. I give a slight wave and keep moving. If I stand still for a minute, someone will ask me to work; Chloe wasn’t wrong.
“Do you come out here a lot?” Hunter asks.
“At least once a month,” I reply. “We have a large family dinner on the first Sunday of every month. But there’s always a birthday, or graduation, or some other excuse to visit.”
“It’s nice to have a large family close by.”
“It is! Do you have any family near you?”
“No. Just me.”
“Does it get lonely?” I ask.
He probably has plenty of friends and doesn't miss family. I can’t imagine life without my family close by.
“Of course.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, I have an excellent group of friends. I live with two college buddies, but it’s a lifestyle that’s growing old. Going out all the time. Ball games, concerts, bars. Fun, but I feel like something’s missing.”
“No girlfriend?”
“No, you?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend either,” I quip.
“Boyfriend?”
“No, I’m too busy.” Understatement. “Besides, my ability to find someone I’m compatible with is broken.”
“Tell me more.”
“You don’t want to hear my disastrous dating history.”
“Actually, I do.”
“Why?”
“I find you interesting.”
“You’re misguided, my friend. I’m boring. I work, worry, sleep, and repeat.”
“What do you worry about? Seems like you’ve got good things going for you. You own your own business in the town where you grew up, and you’re surrounded by family and friends.”
“That’s all true. And then there are the challenges, too.
For instance, the building is eighty years old and needs constant attention.
” I feel my heart rate pick up a little steam and force myself to take a breath.
“I have a repair estimate sitting on my desk right now that is causing me to lose sleep.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yes. The furnace broke and needs an overhaul before the weather turns cold. We’ve had unusually warm weather lately, but it won’t last much longer.
My sister and I live in the building and need heat and I can’t open the boutique without heat in the winter.
Chloe’s not the only one I worry about, either.
I have local vendor partners who depend on the store to supplement their incomes.
There are two single moms earning money in the shop, three seniors, and two families with young kids.
Income from the shop helps put food on the table. That’s pressure.”
I feel winded and need to take a deep breath before I pass out. I plop down on a nearby bench. My hands are sweaty, and I feel nauseous. I’ll have to take a caramel apple home with me.
Hunter sits next to me and puts a hand on the back of my neck, squeezing gently. “Hey, it’s all right. You’re going to be all right.” His voice is soft, and I lean closer to hear him. He’s like a beacon in a storm. He rubs small circles on my neck with his thumb. It’s soothing.
The nausea passes and I lean back. “Thanks,” I say, turning to him. He’s so close, I can see flecks of gold in his green eyes.
I remember the first day of kindergarten. I was too terrified to walk into the classroom. My mom stood at the doorway and told me to go in on my own, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t until a little boy grabbed my hand and said, “Let’s go!” that my legs could move and I entered the classroom.
That little boy was Hunter. I remember his hair was so light blond that I thought it was white at first.
I guess since graduating, I’ve held onto the terrible memories of Hunter and forgotten the many positive ones. They’re coming back now.
When I was in fifth grade, I missed a week of school because I was sick with the flu.
Hunter came over every day to go over the lessons and homework so I wouldn’t fall too far behind.
My mom made him sit on the other side of the room and wear a bandana over his mouth, which made him look like a train robber, but it was amazingly kind of him.
I take a deep breath, maintaining eye contact. “Thank you for calming me down. I didn’t mean to dump all that on you. Ignore me. ”
“No way. Wish I knew how to fix a furnace. I’m better with my brain than tools, but I could try.”
“No, thanks! I need it fixed, not broken further.”
“What’s the damage?”
“Damage? I don’t know, exactly. It’s all malarkey to me. Something about the motor.”
He laughs, grabs my hand, and leans in. “No, financial damage. How much to fix it?”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t want to know. It’s the gross domestic product of a tiny island in the Pacific Ocean.”
He shakes his head and pulls me up. “Yeah? That sounds pretty crazy. I think you might be exaggerating.”
“Maybe a bit, but I’m telling you, I really need tomorrow to be a grand slam as far as sales go. Like extra runs.”
“You only get four runs with a grand slam.”
“Well, I need six or seven.”
I’ve counted my intake each day. It’s been good, but not good enough. I’m still five grand short. I could go to the bank and try to take out another loan, but I don’t like that idea.
“Not happening. Only four runs. But hopefully, tomorrow’s a great day. I would shut my sister’s booth down, so you’d get more sales, but I think she’d kill me.”
“She might. Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out. I usually do.”
My faith in my ability to solve simple problems is slipping.
My faith in Hunter is growing.