Page 79

Kerry Winsor: Uh, yeah. To maybe go to the diner. This was way out of left field.
Tammy Jane: Damn. This was the one time I should have closed the diner and gone.
Hu Gh: DON’T YOU DARE. THAT’S MY COFFEE TIME.
As I unloadedeverything I bought at the farmers market into the cabinets of the house, I realized that I might have gotten too much. I had no idea how fast I could go through all that I’d bought, but I would try mybest.
I’d told Cain I would share, so hopefully he would help.
But after dragging him around all morning? He definitely wasn’t thrilled with me.
I still wasn’t happy that I hadn’t known about it. I loved to go as a kid. Papa Bennie would tell me I was his best salesman, but I figured it had been lost to time like the library.
It was fun, but I’d noticed there was a missing part of it. Bennie was the one who sold fresh berries in the spring and strawberry jam in the winter.
No one had taken his place.
I could see a future with not just berries, but other crops that went later into the season. Sometimes, Bennie had a surplus around the U-pick days, or he took the eggs to sell directly to people to catch up with them.
I wanted to do that.
But with my job and my uncertain future, I didn’t know if I could.
Cain’s truck pulled in right when I had just finished putting everything away.
“Welcome back,” I greeted as they walked in. “Have fun with Jackie?”
“She let me color!” Eric said. He had a piece of paper in his hands that he showed me. I told him it looked amazing before letting my eyes fall on Cain, who was walking into the kitchen.
“Lunch time already?” I asked, trying to gauge how bad his mood was.
“Yep. If I push it any longer, Eric might eat one of us.”
“I want pasta!” Eric called. “With sauce! And garlic bread!”
“I suppose the man has spoken,” Cain replied. “If you’d still be willing to share.”
“Do you think I’d change my mind that quickly? I’ll share. As long as I get a plate.”
He nodded, but his eyes lingered on me. “I thought you’d be more ... mad.”
“I thoughtyou’dbe more mad.”
“About what?”
“Um, the farmers market? Me making you carry my bags while I shopped? How bad is your memory?”
“Oh, that.” He shrugged. “Whatever.”
“I’m sorry, what? You’re just letting it go?”
“There’s nothing to let go of. I didn’t have that bad of a time.”
“You didn’t?”
“You did most of the talking anyway.”
I crossed my arms. “Guess I need to come up with better punishments.”