Chapter 3 - Olivia
T he Gresham Farmers Market opened most summer Saturdays at 8 a.m. on the dot, and its first patrons were older, early risers hoping to beat the heat. Though it was a bit unusual for early June, especially after a heavy rain, the forecast predicted a scorcher with highs in the nineties.
Despite the heat, the market would soon be bustling. The whole place smelled like the sugary doughnuts the local Lions Club was frying for their annual summer fundraiser. Olivia’s fellow vendors were hawking everything from canned jams to handmade fishing lures. There was only one other vegetable farmer who also sold eggs as well as a berry farmer selling strawberries that week. While those two stands were technically Olivia’s competition, without them, it wouldn’t have been much of a farmers market.
When Olivia’s CSA customers opened their boxes that week, they would find an assortment of late spring vegetables, including lettuce, kale, snap peas, asparagus, radishes, and a bundle of dill. These little veggie babies filled Olivia with pride. She’d always loved watching seeds sprout, grow leaves, and produce food, but unfortunately, her passion didn’t translate to her family’s five-thousand-acre farm. At that scale, farming meant being stuck in a tractor from sunrise to sundown. Sure, it wasn’t the same as sitting in front of a computer all day like she’d done for the previous decade, but for Olivia, it felt too disconnected from the earth.
Furthermore, the crops grown at that scale were invariably commercial products like wheat, corn, and soybeans, which were sold on a global market. Like she’d told her dad, there was absolutely no shame in producing food to feed the masses, but it didn’t inspire Olivia to jump out of bed in the morning. What did get her moving was the motivation to increase access to fresh local produce, especially for a rural community like Gresham. If this year was successful, she was hoping to create an income-based subscription model going forward.
Unfortunately, she was more worried about the immediate viability of the CSA than she’d been willing to admit to her dad. At only fifteen subscribers, she was barely breaking even. If she was going to keep her business going next year, she needed to reach thirty subscribers by mid-July, which was only about a month away.
Looking around at the crowd dressed in shorts and T-shirts, she wondered how she might lure a few more families into her CSA. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Ethan Wescott headed her way. Her nightmare date wouldn’t end. How had she forgotten the cardinal rule of small-town living? There was no such thing as anonymity .
She turned, pretending to grab more lettuce for her display, avoiding eye contact. Olivia prayed Ethan would take the hint and keep walking. However, through her peripheral vision, it was obvious he was walking straight toward her. Damn . She resigned herself to the forthcoming awkwardness.
“Hey, Olivia.” His deep voice was undeniably appealing, but he had to stop. Had he not gotten the message when she’d ignored his three texts the night before? Apparently ghosting didn’t work in small towns…or when your moms are friends.
She spun around to put an end to his pursuit, once and for all. “I’m not going on another date with you, Ethan. I told you…”
Olivia froze because she was not looking at twenty-three-year-old Ethan Wescott. She was face-to-face with his older, oh-so-similar-looking brother, Aiden. The resemblance was uncanny.
“I’m sorry, but I think you’ve mistaken me for my little brother,” Aiden said, laughter dancing at the edge of his words. “I’m flattered.”
Olivia’s mouth dropped open as she took Aiden in. Sure, he definitely looked like Ethan, but he was so much more–for lack of a better word–manly. Holy hell. She suddenly had the urge to fan herself like a Southern belle. Where had that come from?
“Aiden! What are you doing here?” It came out more as an accusation than a question.
“I’m in town visiting my family. How long has it been anyway? Like thirteen years since we graduated high school?” he said in a relaxed voice.
Olivia, stop being weird. She recalled her vow to act like a grown-ass woman. She would not revert to the gangly teenager she’d once been. Who cared if the most popular boy in school was talking to her?
“Right! Family. Great! Did you…want to buy some vegetables?”
“Oh, my mom asked me to pick up their CSA box. And obviously, I wanted to see this for myself and say hello. So, ya know, hi.”
“Ah yes, that makes sense because you’re Aiden Wescott, and your mom is Carolyn Wescott, one of my CSA subscribers who also happens to be Ethan Wescott’s mom. Have you ever noticed how small this town is?”
She’d lost control of her mouth. It just kept talking, and every word that came out sounded more inane than the last. Cool and confident? Any hopes of cool and confident had gone ass over teakettle as soon as Aiden showed up.
Olivia splayed her hands. “So, um, yeah, let me grab your mom’s veggies.”
She turned away to grab the box labeled ‘Carolyn Wescott’ before she drowned in her own ridiculousness. When Aiden accepted it, his fingers grazed hers, making her fidget.
“Oh, wow. I'm impressed. You're doing all this by yourself?” Of all the awkward vibes leading up to this moment that might have made her blush, it was his compliment that did the job.
“Yeah, thanks. It's, um, growing, I guess. I’ve still got a lot of work to do to get it where it needs to be, but I’m hopeful.”
“Well, Gresham can use all the fresh produce it can get. It’s crazy how many diseases are preventable with better diets, but access to fresh veggies can be challenging in rural communities.” He sounded earnest. She didn’t think she’d ever heard Aiden Wescott sound earnest before .
“Wow, thanks, you make it sound so noble,” she said. “But seriously, I’m really grateful for your parents’ business. Please thank them again for me.”
“Sure, no worries.” He smiled, and his dimples created valleys in his cheeks. God, those dimples.
“Oh, and these.” She grabbed a bouquet of light purple daylilies and awkwardly placed them on top of the box in Aiden’s arms. “I try to include flowers whenever I can,” she added, not wanting him to think she’d just given him flowers.
Aiden watched Olivia closely through the whole interaction, but she struggled to meet his captivating blue eyes. She wondered what he saw. What changes or similarities to her eighteen-year-old self did he notice?
Her hair was definitely less orange, thanks to the low lights she spent far too much money on, always hoping for a Julia Roberts-red, circa her Pretty Woman days. Her skin was still fairly freckled, especially given how much time she had been outside that spring. One thing definitely hadn’t changed: her 5-foot 9-inch skinny frame. Okay, maybe she’d graduated to a B cup through sheer force of will and ice cream, but that was pushing it.
Olivia was about to turn around again to avoid his gaze, but Aiden spoke. “You know, I have to admit, I was a little surprised to hear you and Ethan were going out last night, but now I have to say, I get it. I mean, at least from Ethan’s perspective.”
“Oh my god, Aiden. Stop. I’m pretty sure this is the exact scenario that kept me two thousand miles away for the last decade.”
“You stayed in Seattle because you were worried about me complimenting you at a farmers market?” His teasing tone surprised her. Was he flirting?
“Umm. I’d say it was the fear I'd be desperate enough to go on a date with someone half my age. But for the record, I immediately called it off.” As soon as I heard you were in town, Olivia admitted silently to herself. “It lasted like, five minutes, tops.”
Still talking. She was still talking. Why was she telling him this? Her cheeks were getting warm again.
Why does it feel so intense when he looks at me? Beads of sweat formed at her hairline, and she surreptitiously wiped them away with her forearm.
“I know. He told me last night,” Aiden admitted. “I promise I won’t mention it again. And also, no judgment. Ethan is a catch.”
A guffaw burst out of Olivia. Despite his promise to stop teasing her about Ethan, Aiden’s eyes were mirthful, and a grin lingered at the corners of his mouth.
Olivia’s face turned serious as she remembered what her mom had said about Aiden’s dad’s stroke. It was exactly the reality check she needed. Aiden had much bigger fish to fry than wasting time talking about her silly date with Ethan.
In a softer tone, she said, “Hey, so, I hope you don’t mind me saying, but my mom told me about your dad’s stroke. I’m so sorry. How’s he doing?”
Aiden’s smile faltered. “Not so great, unfortunately. I’m hoping to be around more to take the pressure off my mom and Ethan a bit.”
“Ethan mentioned you moved to Saint Paul?”
“Yeah, I just started a job at Saint Paul Children’s.”
Olivia noted how understated this was—what he’d omitted despite having earned legitimate bragging rights .
“Well, that’s great you’ll be closer to Gresham…for your family, obviously.”
“Obviously.” Although his eyes were laughing, he only smiled as he lingered in front of her stand. “What about you? What brings you back to Gresham? A bit of a change from Seattle, no?”
Olivia tilted her head and scratched her nose as she considered which of her lines about moving back she should give. She could use the “closer to family” line or the “cost of living” line. She could pull out the old, “had always planned to come back, just took a little longer than I thought.” Or she could fall back on, “life is hard to predict sometimes.”
In the end, she settled on something generic while hinting at reality. “I guess the same reasons anyone moves back. Aging parents, opportunity, and all that. And I think I was ready for a change of scenery.”
“Fair enough.” He nodded. “Hey, would you want to grab a beer after you're done here? For old time’s sake?”
“Old time’s sake?” Olivia glanced at him sideways, her voice full of skepticism. “What times are those?”
The last time she remembered talking to Aiden was during a class project in the eleventh grade, most of which he’d spent sleeping face down on his desk. She was pretty sure he had been hungover, but she hadn’t fully understood the mechanics of alcohol yet. It would be another year before Olivia and her best friend Maddy giggled their way through a strawberry wine cooler in her childhood bedroom after her parents had gone to sleep.
And yet, if she was honest with herself, she’d had a little, tiny crush on him in high school. The kind a teenage girl has at a distance, knowing full-well the feeling is completely one sided .
Aiden was looking at her quizzically, as if he were considering his next words carefully. “Are we going to pretend like you didn’t kiss me behind the puppet stage in kindergarten?”
Olivia grinned. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. He wasn’t wrong. They had been kindergarten sweethearts. But he’d dropped her in first grade for Jessica Thompson.
“Maybe next time?” She hoped her answer sounded friendly but firm. “I’ve been awake since five-thirty, and it’ll probably be dinnertime before I’m home. I’m pretty sure I’d fall asleep in my beer.”
“No problem. Another time works for me. Anyway, it was great to see you again, and it seems like you’re taking Gresham by storm with these CSA boxes and produce and flowers.” He nodded at each item in her stand to emphasize his point.
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” She smiled, appreciating the encouragement.
As she said it, Pam, another CSA subscriber, hesitantly approached her stand. Olivia waved at her encouragingly to come forward, and Aiden glanced over his shoulder.
“Looks like I’m holding up the line,” he said. “I’ll let you go, but I hope I’ll see you around.”
“Sounds good. Take care, Aiden.”
Olivia’s eyes lingered on the V-shape of his torso as he walked away before she turned toward Pam.
Pam stepped forward with a bounce in her step. As a seventy-one-year-old retiree, Pam worked out at the YMCA every morning and was one of Olivia’s first subscribers. While her gray hair suggested her age, she had the energy and healthy aura of a much younger woman. Classic CSA early adopter, Olivia thought to herself. Where do I find more Pams?
“Good morning,” Olivia said cheerfully, hoping to draw in other folks who might be hesitant to approach. “How is your Saturday treating you, Pam? I see you have your coffee.”
“Another day above ground. Can't complain, but I probably will anyway. What are we getting this week?”
Olivia proudly opened a box with a flourish, and Pam peered in. “I remember you said radishes give you heartburn,” Olivia said. “So I substituted a few early potatoes in your box.”
Pam's face split into a mischievous grin. “I feel so spoiled. I promise not to tell your other CSA folks I got potatoes, and they didn’t.”
“Well, I appreciate you watching out for me, but in all honesty, anything you can do to spread the word about the CSA would be helpful. I was hoping for thirty subscribers this year, and I’m only at fifteen. Maybe you could tell all of your YMCA friends about how healthy my produce makes you feel?” Olivia lifted her voice in question, leading the witness.
“Oh yah, I’d be happy to help,” Pam responded enthusiastically. “Do you have a business card by chance? I could tack it to the YMCA community board for ya.”
“Ah, yes, you’re brilliant. That would be great.” Olivia handed Pam a stack of cards.
Their banter helped bring Olivia back to herself, but in the lull following Pam’s departure, she replayed her interaction with Aiden.
Yes, okay, he looked great. To be honest, he was certifiably dreamy. He’d definitely gotten more handsome since she’d seen him last. Maybe a bit Patrick Dempsey-esque? Or was she thinking that because of the whole doctor thing?
But he was also…different than she remembered. Perhaps this is what she should expect from all of her former classmates who were now full-blown adults, but it felt like more than that. Although he’d teased her, he’d also seemed genuinely curious about what she was up to and had been generous with his praise. Meanwhile, she felt like she’d reverted to her high school days, self-conscious and gawky around the cutest boy in town.
It resurfaced the question she had continually asked herself since moving back home. Was it possible to hold onto her identity and remain unhindered by the town's expectations of who she was supposed to be? Or did Gresham only have enough room for her to be forced back into an outdated mold? Because that brief interaction, with all of her blushing and fumbling for words, suggested the latter, and she didn’t love it.