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I wanted to tease him about it more, but the first car pulled into the farm, even though we weren’t opening for an hour.
“There’s Jackie. Ready to help.”
“She doesn’t have to do anything,” I replied.
“But she will.” He kissed me on the forehead. “Show her how to use the card reader. I need to go finish with the eggs.”
Jackie looked ready for a day outside. She had a wide-brimmed hat and a strawberry-printed linen shirt on.
“It looks so great!” she called. “Just like it did when Bennie was alive.”
“I’m pretty sure he had more fields for picking. And he had tulips. But I’ll get there next year.”
“Don’t get down on yourself.” She pointed at me. “You’ve done so much since you got here.”
“Sorry,” I said as I held up my hands in mock defense. “We open in about an hour, so I’m about to get the card machine up and running.”
“That’s so fancy.”
“I figured it would make it easier for customers, especially the ones who don’t carry cash anymore.”
“I bet it will. Now, come on and show me how to run it. I want you out talking to everyone.”
“Because I’m so friendly?”
“No, so you can enjoy your moment.”
The moment was currently a ball of nerves, but I knew she was right. Jackie quickly picked up how everything worked, and by the time I was done, cars were filtering in.
Kerry and Tommy were the first to arrive. Tommy wanted Eric to show him his room, so they went inside to play while Kerry picked berries.
“These look delicious,” she told me as she grabbed a particularly red one. “Though judging by how excited Tommy was to be here, I suppose I’ll have to make a ton of strawberry jam.”
“You don’t have to buy something every time you come here.”
“Nonsense. I wanna support someone local.”
I had just enough time to tell her thank you before Atticus arrived and asked a ton of questions about where I’d sourced them. Mark was next, and then Tammy, and then Mike. Just from them alone, I’d made a decent amount. When the town came together to support someone, they did amazing things.
But as the sun climbed higher in the sky, more people came, driving in from different places. Some were neighboring towns. Some were passing through and happened to see the sign. One had even come all the way from Nashville.
I’d been shocked at the woman with curly blonde hair when she told me.
“It wasn’t that bad,” she said with a laugh. “My husband did most of the driving.”
She pointed to a man with dark hair who was busy picking berries.
“I’ve driven there more times than I could count in the last few months, so thank you for making it all this way.”
“Did you need to get supplies or something?”
“No, I’m from there. And it’s the hub of other court-related things that my boyfriend would kill me for if I mentioned.”
“A former local? Damn, I was hoping to be the one to tell you about hot chicken.”
“I haven’t been.”
She gaped. “Youhaveto go to Prince’s. Next time you’re in town, of course.”