Page 11 of Apple of My Eye
Chapter Nine
Eloise
Aprons Mom Wears (ranked best to worst)
– Udderly Amazing Chef
– Out Standing in my Field
– Ewe Complete Me
– Silly Goose on the Loose
– Legen-dairy Cook
– It’s Pasture Bedtime (honestly, points are only docked here because she always wears this one in the morning, so the pun makes no sense)
‘You saw the new guy at Hal’s today?’ Mom asks before I’m all the way through the back door.
I beat the dust of my shoes and set them aside.
She’s taking up the doorway of the back mudroom, the one that opens up to the sprawling kitchen and dining room combination.
I take a deep breath, inhaling the smell of steak, before I turn to her.
‘Mom, how on earth do you know that?’ I ask in a no-nonsense tone.
‘Amie,’ she says, in a tone that clearly communicates I should have known the answer.
‘How have you already talked to Amie?’
‘We text.’ She shrugs.
‘You text? She’s my age!’
‘All right, fine. We’ve been texting about the fall festival. And she happened to mention that she saw you at the store today.’
‘Hmm.’ I squint at her. ‘Well, yes, I did see the new guy.’
‘So, what did you think?’
‘He seemed .?.?. fine?’ I make to head to the kitchen, but she won’t budge.
‘He’s cute, right?’
‘Mom—’ I level my gaze at her ‘—you can’t be serious. I don’t even know his name.’
‘Why not?’ She finally pivots from the doorway, letting us both spill out into the kitchen, where she resumes her stance behind the stove. ‘And his name is Nick, by the way.’
I glare at her.
‘Farming can’t be your whole life, Lou. Your longest relationship is with JJ at this point! A horse named after one of those .?.?.’ she pauses, searching for the words ‘.?.?. those .?.?. those brothers!’
‘JJ is great!’ I retort. ‘And look who’s talking. Your whole life is farming.’ I take a seat on my stool, the one in the middle, and gulp down a glass of water.
She puts her hands on her hips, resting them on the sides of her ‘Silly Goose on the Loose’ apron. ‘All I’m saying is that I heard he was nice. And handsome. I want you to have some fun! You’re too young to be stuck with us old people all the time.’
I roll my eyes. ‘Mom, he commented on my boobs after talking to me for less than a minute.’
Dad steps into the kitchen only to promptly put his hands over his ears and leave. Mom bursts out laughing. ‘No he did not. There is no way.’
‘You weren’t there!’
‘What did he say?’
‘“How do you like them apples,”’ I say slowly, enunciating every word.
‘You mean to tell me he commented on your shirt to you and you found that offensive? Why on earth did you think that was about your boobs?’
I look down.
‘“Got apples” and “how do you like them apples” are completely different,’ I say, but I feel the blush creeping up my cheeks all the same. I am wearing a shirt that reads ‘Got Apples’ in a clear riff on the ‘Got Milk’ slogan.
‘What were you doing when he asked you?’
‘Shopping for apples!’ I throw my hands up, exasperated. ‘Like you asked me to!’
‘Figures.’ Mom guffaws and the sound tinkles throughout the kitchen. ‘Or maybe he was quoting that movie .?.?. HAL?’ She yells towards the office, where Dad’s footsteps had receded. ‘WHAT’S THAT MOVIE WITH THE BOSTON KIDS?’
Dad mumble-yells something back that I can’t decipher.
‘That’s it!’ Mom says happily. ‘ Good Will Hunting . That’s the movie. I’m pretty sure it’s a line from that.’
I roll my eyes. ‘I think I know a line when I hear one.’
‘Eloise, you know a lot about a lot of things, but you are hopeless when it comes to romance.’
‘Whatever. It’s not like I’m going to see him again.’ I head towards the stairs. ‘I’m going to shower,’ I call over my shoulder, at the same times she asks me, ‘What makes you say that?’
I freeze. ‘Mom .?.?. what did you do?’
She laughs again, chortling this time. ‘You better shower fast!’ she calls. ‘They’ll be here in twenty!’
My hair is dripping, actually more like creating its own weather system, as I make my way downstairs.
I wasn’t able to blast it with a blow-dryer for more than two minutes before I heard a knock on the door.
I catch a faint exchange of hellos, and I clock Dad’s introductory grunt.
I hurry to pull on jeans and a white T-shirt before I scamper down the stairs, rounding the corner too fast and crashing straight into a man who smells like cinnamon gum and laundry detergent, whose chest is a lot more solid than I was expecting, and who is taller than I thought, seeing as my forehead meets his body a solid two inches below his chin.
‘Oof!’ he exclaims, stepping back and rubbing his sternum.
Thankfully everyone else has headed down the hallway to the kitchen, so no one has witnessed me bulldozing the visitor.
‘I’m so sorry.’ I can feel the blush rising in my cheeks.
‘You must be Eloise,’ he says.
He’s just as cute, —no, cuter—than I remember him. He stands straight and confidently. Something about him makes my mouth feel dry.
I shake the feeling off and find my voice enough to say, ‘And you’re Nick.’
He looks at me curiously, like he’s trying to work out how the person who was so stand-offish in the store was somehow spawned by the sweet people who invited him over for dinner.
‘Did I offend you today?’ he asks me, but I don’t realize he’s about to speak until it’s too late. I’ve already started, so I end up asking, ‘So how long have you been in town?’ at the same time he talks.
‘No,’ I answer. Avoiding the situation is infinitely easier than admitting I could have misinterpreted what he said.
‘A few days.’ He nods towards the kitchen. ‘They’ve been great.’ He smiles.
‘I’m sure,’ I murmur, my thoughts racing through my head.
He’s tall, strong, but I tell myself that by the looks of his slim-fit jeans and pressed button down, he’s nothing I can’t handle.
Besides the fact that being in such close proximity to him makes my knees feel like they’re turning into jelly.
‘Does Nick need a drink?’ Mom calls loudly from the kitchen, not so subtly telling me to stop lingering in the hallway.
‘Come on.’ I wave him after me, wondering under my breath what the hell I’m doing cavorting with Mrs. Parker’s ‘secret weapon’ and how I can extricate myself from this situation as soon as possible.