Chapter 18
On Saturday morning, when Cali figured out how to phrase it, she told Minka her illness was in her head, not her body, and she was feeling well enough to go to Candlewick Orchard on Sunday.
Minka reiterated the importance of taking breaks, and Cali reminded her Candlewick Orchard would be just that.
The ride to the orchard with Minka lifted Cali’s spirits almost instantly. Soft sunlight filtered through the color-changing trees as they rolled along an almost vacant Sunday morning highway. The sunroof of her SUV was open, inviting in the cool breeze.
“You going home for the holidays this year?” Cali asked.
Minka shook her head. “Doubtful. I can’t really leave town for the holidays because of the café.
So it’s a good thing my parents and siblings are still mostly local.
” She adjusted the visor against the glare.
“But we may get a visit from some relatives in Indiana. Cousins and their kiddos. It’s been a while since I’ve seen them.
Talking on the phone’s just not the same. ”
Cali was reminded of her own family. They’d mostly stayed put in New England, although no longer at her childhood home. She didn’t blame them. There was something about New England autumns that no other place could touch.
“What about you? Any plans?” Minka asked.
“There’s no telling which direction I’ll be driving for Christmas this year,” she replied. “Autumn Ridge is that sweet spot between my brother’s place down in Connecticut and my parents’ place up in Maine.”
The wind whipped through Minka’s golden blonde hair. “Maybe they’ll all come visit you this year instead. Then they can meet Ethan.” She winked.
Cali offered a faint smile before taking a long sip of the Oat Couture Minka brought her for the trip. She wondered how long she could avoid the topic of Ethan but was determined to deflect and distract as much as possible.
Cali’s phone buzzed in her lap. A text from her mom: You seeing anyone? Just wondered with the holidays and all.
“Speak of the devil,” she muttered.
“Your mom?”
Cali nodded.
Minka laughed. “Parental telepathy. Works every time.”
“Apparently so.” Cali slid the phone face-down.
“She’s got a sixth sense these days, when I’m talking about them.
It’s like she knows.” But Cali couldn’t share what her mother texted.
She needed a change of subject—and quick.
“Tell me about the family who owns Candlewick again. You say they’re the ones who supply your apple cider doughnuts at the café? ”
Minka was easily distracted when it came to suppliers.
“Oh yeah, for years. Mine and pretty much every other small food business around here. And my apples. But it’s fun to go pick some for your own use.
Oh, Mr. Winslow brought a new one for me to try this year: Ludacrisp.
Can you believe it?” They both snorted, recognizing how similar the name was to a famous rapper.
“I’m sure they just named them that because they’re ludicrously good.
Like, amazing,” she emphasized. “Tropical even. Like if an apple and a pineapple had a baby.”
“That does sound good.”
As the miles passed by them, Minka fell into a deep explanation of apple varieties and cross-pollination.
Cali finally had to interrupt. She couldn’t stand not knowing. “How do you know so much about apples, Minka? You run a café. You didn’t grow up in an orchard.”
Minka cheeks turned rosy, and Cali watched her straighten her back against the driver’s seat. “Oh, well, Grady Winslow and I, we … well, I don’t know what you’d call it, Cals.”
“You dated?”
“More like hooked up. Off and on. Like every summer during college. I don’t know why but something about coming home and seeing him, it just … he’s the one who got away.”
“That’s so sweet, Minka. Maybe you’re his one who got away, too.”
“Meh,” she shrugged. “It wasn’t meant to be.”
“Will he be there today?” Cali asked.
Minka scoffed. “No. Ever since Candlewick expanded into ciders, he’s traveled to food expos and regional fairs. He even went out of state for a while to study sustainable farming after I was done with my business degree. I know he’s still part of the family business, but not, like, the face of it.”
“I see.”
Minka’s shoulders relaxed as they followed the handmade signs along the road to a gravel lot packed with vehicles.
A kid ran past their parked car with a caramel apple on a stick.
The delightful smells of wood smoke and apple cider drifted through Minka’s open sunroof as they bundled up. Laughter echoed in the distance.
Once they walked through the ivy-covered entrance gates, they were met with an irresistible fall setting: rows of apple trees heavy with red, green, and gold fruit, rustic wooden signs pointing toward “Cider Barn,” “Donuts,” “Hayrides,” and “Petting Zoo.” Wagons creaked and horses snorted as they pulled groups of apple pickers toward the fields.
Boots crunched on gravel as goats and cows bleated for more feed.
The sweet, heady scent of ripe apples and cider hit her nose first, and she insisted they eat before apple picking.
They sat on glossy red benches, each with a cold, fizzy hard cider and warm, glazed apple cider donuts that left them with sticky fingers as they people-watched.
Then they wandered over to the animal farm and bought some feed.
The nudge of a goat’s nose and the feel of its raspy tongue as it ate from Cali’s hand reminded her of autumns with her grandmother, visiting together.
Finally, they bought their baskets and made their way out to the orchard to pick them full.
The orchard smelled like cider and damp leaves, the kind of sweetness that could trick a person into thinking the world was uncomplicated.
Cali trailed behind Minka, pretending to study the rows of apple trees.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Minka noted, twisting an apple off its stem. “And don’t say it’s because you’re concentrating. This isn’t the library.” The sound of fiddles tuning drifted from the barn. “Give it to me, Cals.”
Cali shifted her basket, scanning for excuses. “Okay. It’s Ethan. But before you say anything—”
Minka’s brow rose. “Oh, I’m definitely going to say something if it’s about Ethan.”
Cali sighed, pressing her thumb into the skin of an apple until it dimpled. “We haven’t actually been seeing each other. At least not regularly, and certainly not like the rest of Autumn Ridge seems to think.”
“But the kiss and the cat sharing and the hand holding at Nine Lives?” Cali winced at the reminder. “I thought things were going great. No wonder you haven’t been spilling the details.”
“I just don’t want to get attached, okay? He’s going to leave when City Hall’s done, and things will get messy. I’d rather rip the bandage off now than wait until later, when it’ll just hurt worse.”
Minka leaned her hip against a tree trunk, watching her. “You really think you can schedule heartbreak?”
Cali frowned. “That’s not what I’m—”
“It’s exactly what you’re trying to do.” Minka’s voice softened. “End things before they can end on their own, like that’ll make it easier. Right? Well, take it from me. It doesn’t work. You’ll just end up hating yourself.”
The orchard wind rustled between them, shaking loose a few red leaves.
Cali’s throat tightened. “I just—if he does leave, it’ll mean I misread everything.”
“Or,” Minka said gently, “you’re a kick-ass librarian who isn’t prone to misreading.
What you’re prone to, instead, is making up stories in your head.
You’re not scared of him leaving, Cali. You’re scared of what it says about you if he does.
But I’m here to tell you, if he leaves, it likely has nothing to do with you.
Do you see the way that guy looks at you?
Hell, even the way he looks at your cat! ”
Cali glanced down at the trail and swallowed hard. “I gave him Max,” she confessed.
“You what?” Minka almost dropped her basket. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“After Max ran away, he showed up at Ethan’s place. I saw how happy he was with Catsby and I just—I just, I don’t know. I let go. I told Ethan I wasn’t taking Max back, and we got into an argument about it.”
Minka blinked at her, stunned. “Okay, wow. That’s … a lot of feelings wrapped up in one cat.”
Cali’s voice wavered. “I thought it was the right thing. Max seemed happier there—and safe. He probably won’t run away again. But now I don’t even know if it was about Max or if it was about trying to prove something to Ethan.”
“It sounds an awful lot like you were doing what was safest for you.”
Cali frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you thought if you let go first, it wouldn’t hurt as much when they leave. Both Ethan and Max, Cals. I see right through it. You thought it would make you brave.” Minka dropped an apple into her basket and sighed. “Trust me, it doesn’t. It just makes you lonely.”
The sounds of the orchard filled the silence between them then. A bee hovered between them then moved on. A camera shutter clicked as someone captured the perfect shot in the next row of trees. Somewhere, a child laughed near the cider press—a sound too bright for how hollow her chest felt.
Cali’s chest ached. “You make it sound like I did something wrong.”
“No, Cals. I think you did something human.” Minka smiled faintly and took one of Cali’s frigid hands in hers, so Cali would know Minka was being sincere.
“But I’ve played that game before. Told myself I was being practical, giving someone space so I didn’t get hurt.
All it really did was make sure he never knew I wanted him to stay.
” She sighed again, heavy with the memory.
“I just don’t want you to make the same mistake I did.
If you want Ethan to stay, you’ve got to tell him.
Otherwise there’s no way he’ll have a chance to decide for himself.
” They walked hand-in-hand for a while, minds circling around their own thoughts.
Then Minka’s voice softened. “By the way, he didn’t show up to Nine Lives either. ”
“Ethan?”
“Yep. When I texted everyone to meet at the café instead, that you weren’t feeling well, he said he forgot he’d made plans.”
Cali sighed. “That probably just means he forgot he had plans, Minka.”
Minka smirked. “I think he didn’t want to be there because you weren’t there.”
“And here I was trying not to be there because I thought he would.”
“Sounds like a perfect match to me.”
“Oh, shut up.” Cali grinned and kicked at a fallen apple with her boot.
“You might as well talk to Ethan about all this before the whole town starts doing it for you,” Minka advised.
“No meddling, Minka. You promised.”
“I think you two are meddling quite well all on your own, thank you.” Minka plucked another apple, tossed it into Cali’s basket, and grinned. “Now stop brooding. You’re scaring the produce.”