Chapter Eighteen
ON THURSDAY, I GO BACK to the cidery, but it’s grim. By now, everyone has heard that Harrison has quit. Barb is helping Charlie with the heavy lifting in the tank room, and the mood is sombre.
Charlie is maybe the only person just as sad as I am. When I visit the tank room, there is no Dolly and Kenny Christmas album, just him testing the levels of the ruined cider with a glum expression.
I just don’t understand any of it, Kate, he says, looking at his various instruments. This tank had been fine. And I really don’t think the boy had anything to do with it, so why he took responsibility and quit, I’ll never figure out.
He’s headed home, I say. There could be a lot of reasons for that. Maybe even some good ones.
I don’t add that I probably made it worse.
Our second Christmas-themed karaoke goes well enough.
Rodney decides to step up as MC and does pretty well.
A little liquid courage in the form of a shot of tequila was needed to get him up there at first, but he got into character quickly.
By the end, even Daniel was a little impressed by his cousin’s performance.
Friday and Saturday go smoothly as well, with no more dramatic illnesses or surprise disasters. Our traffic is amazing, our guests are happy, and by all accounts, I should be pleased.
Instead, when a guest mentions how amazing our small-batch barrel-aged cider is, I’m reminded of Harrison and get sad.
When I find a green scarf sitting neatly folded at my desk, I get sadder.
And Sunday morning, when I’m in the tasting bar after going through the numbers with Wendy for the day, I finally lose it.
For the first time, I notice a new little Christmas ornament on the staff tree.
It’s one of those nice wooden ones, and it’s a small barbecue with meat on it.
It’s so, so stupid, and it’s what brings me to tears.
I step out and walk through the orchards for a few minutes, wandering aimlessly through the rows of leafless trees.
Apple trees look particularly sad when they’re without their greenery, all twisted and haunted.
It’s a cold day, and I can see my breath as I walk, and the combined effect is glum and eerie.
Kate!
I look around to see the source of my name and find it from the last person I expect.
My Aunt Jenn is here. Not in Greece—here in the orchard.
Aunt Jenn? I run toward her, and she pulls me into a hug.
God, it’s freezing, she says. I am decidedly not used to these temperatures anymore.
Tough life, I laugh. I’m so happy to see you, but why are you here so early? Is Aunt Lauren here, too?
I flew in early—Lauren’s going to join us next week, as planned. Barb called me and told me that there’s been quite a few little disasters here recently and that I should consider coming back early.
Barb said that? I ask. She had no right to make that call.
Aunt Jenn shrugs. And I mean, sure. There are a few things that are maybe less than ideal right now—Charlie told me about tank three—but shit happens. I’m not worried about any of it, to be honest. It always sorts itself out, in the end. But I was a little worried about you.
Oh, did Barb go ahead and share my dating life with you as well?
Aunt Jenn raises an eyebrow. No, she did not. Should she have?
I blush. I, uh, kind of dated the cider maker for a while. A few dates, I say, then pause. One date, actually. But it wasn’t a great situation.
See, this is what worried me. Since you took over the cidery, it’s like you went radio silent when you used to text me what you had for breakfast with alarming regularity. I mean, Kate, it’s always croissants.
Okay, I only texted you when they were different kinds of croissants.
But you see what I mean. And then you take this job, and I don’t even hear major life developments. I knew you were busy, and I didn’t want to seem like I was interfering. Lauren and I, we wanted you to know that we trusted you. But…we missed you.
I cry for maybe the third time that day and go in for another hug. Just hugging and crying, that’s me now.
I didn’t want you to worry, I say through some light sobs. I feel like a teenager again. I wanted you to relax! That’s why you and Aunt Lauren retired in the first place.
And it was the right decision for us, no doubt about it. We’re happier than ever. But we’re still here for you. I’m sorry you felt like maybe that wasn’t the case.
I’m glad you’re here, and I’m glad we’re talking, but I’m still furious at Barb, I say, wiping my eyes.
Aunt Jenn sighs. I think in addition to maybe not being the best at communicating with you, we maybe haven’t been the best friends to Barb, either.
We had coffee this morning when I first came in, and she mentioned how lonely it’s been here without us.
Thank goodness she knows enough about cider to step in and help Charlie for a bit until we can hire someone new.
I didn’t realize she knew so much, I say. I mean, Barb’s great at a lot of things, of course. I just didn’t know that was one of them, too.
Oh sure, in the early days, we were all figuring it out together.
She had just married Hank, and their farm had rows of apple trees.
That’s what started everything. We started making cider for fun, and I fell in love with it.
But in the earliest days of experimentation, it was a lot of cider with either too little alcohol, or too flat, or too vinegary.
Thank God we found Charlie to help us, or we never would have had the confidence to buy this place, she says, motioning to the trees around us.
I gape at her, still piecing together everything she just said.
I need to run an errand, I announce.
Um, alright. Is everything okay? asks Aunt Jenn.
Yep. Great. Be right back! I practically run out of the orchards. I need to find Harrison.
I SIT IN MY CAR in the parking lot of bitter&sweet for quite a while before I muster the courage to go in. Their tasting room is busy, and I see Ryan leading a small group around, giving a tour while several of their staff pour samples to the awaiting tour groups.
I walk by the grilled-cheese-and-soup station, and it does, I have to admit, smell amazing.
I don’t want to interrupt anything while they’re busy, and consider chickening out, but when I turn, there’s Brittney. At first, she’s just surprised to see me, and then her expression turns to one of annoyance.
Can we help you? she asks.
I wondered if you had a moment, I start. They’re packed, and she clearly doesn’t, but I continue. I’ll be quick, I promise.
She sighs. Fine, come into the office. She leads me around the corner from the tasting bar, down a hallway to a quiet back room.
Like everything with b&s, it’s designed to perfection, with a big window, trendy office chairs, and Milo the dog napping in the corner.
He lifts his head as I walk in, glares at me, and puts it back down.
I owe you an apology, I think, I say. I haven’t been the best neighbour.
I mean, we did also accidentally poison you, so I think we can call it even on that front, says Brittney as she sits down at one of the chairs.
She motions to one nearby, a bright yellow one, and I sit.
I still don’t know what happened with that, to be honest. Ryan is an amazing baker.
He washes his hands every three seconds.
We sourced everything locally: the fig jam was from a cute shop in Picton, and the goat cheese was from just down the road.
Wait, wait, I say. Not from Linda?
Yeah, we went over to talk to her so she’d stop calling the police on us.
We brought her some baked goods, tried to shmooze her.
We bought a bunch of products from her farm.
We thought it had worked, but then two weeks later, she called to complain about traffic again, so I guess that one is a lost cause.
I don’t think Ryan is to blame for the cookies, I say. The goat cheese was just placed on top, right? Not cooked.
Yeah, it was more just like a finishing touch… says Brittney. Wait, you don’t think—
I absolutely do. I don’t know how we’d ever prove it, though, I say.
But this is not our first run-in with Linda.
She’s pulled some stunts over the years.
Usually, she does it behind the scenes by going to council and kicking up a fuss and trying to get us shut down, and obviously, you already know that Linda loves calling the police.
But even they’re all over her nonsense by now.
She clearly decided to take it into her own hands.
Brittney looks shocked. Do you think she’s the one who ruined your cider? she asks.
I don’t. But I know who did. That’s why I’m here. I’m hoping to find Harrison.
I don’t know if you’ll recognize him when you do, she says. He’s back to being a sad mountain man, beard and all. He should be back at the house. He couldn’t get a flight out until after Christmas. It was all too insanely expensive, so he’s here for a little while yet.
Thanks. And, um, congrats on the award. It was well-deserved. I tried the cider, and it was really good. This was true. Daniel had recently brought a few bottles over for us to try in the office, and we were all in begrudging agreement that it was, in fact, the superior cider, even Charlie.
Thanks. I just need to figure out how to get the LCBO to pick it up.
I mean, we’re small. We’re never going to get the batches necessary for a big run.
But you’d think it would be easier to get bottles on the shelf in our own backyard, she says, and her expression is so defeated, and I am already so emotional, that my last wall comes down.
I can help with that, I say. It’s just getting the right paperwork in and proving that you can deliver on the—we can get into details later, but I can help. If you want.
That would be amazing. I— To my amazement, she tears up and wipes them away quickly.
Sorry. This business, it’s mostly been exciting, and we’re so blessed, but it’s also so, so much harder than I thought.
I opened this place with the inheritance I got when my dad passed away, and some days, it feels like I’m maybe letting him down with all of this.
Because I have zero chill left, I also tear up. It is hard, I agree.
Can I hug you? she asks, and we do. And then we laugh.
I can see why Harrison likes you. I admit that I didn’t before, she says. I thought you were a little…standoffish.
I mean, I was, I say. But…I think I’m ready to not be. I think maybe we could collaborate a bit on some things. Like the party next week. I’ve called the tour groups and switched around our order for Sunday. We’ll close early, end up back here at the end of the night, for your party.
We hug again, and I get directions to her house to go and speak with Harrison.
But I have one more stop to make first.