Page 36 of Apple of My Eye

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Nick

WEEK SEVEN

The day has arrived—two executives from Scott’s Orchards are coming by this afternoon to meet Joe and Betsy.

Based on the email they sent over prior, we won’t be discussing too much business.

They want to get a feel for what we’re doing.

I have all the confidence in the world that Joe and Betsy can deliver.

Joe and I spend the morning putting up signs for U-Pick.

I thought the blue truck was hard to drive, but the tractor is something else.

As it rolls and teeters over the dirt beneath me, I realize it’s as close as I’ve ever come to riding a wild animal.

I think about JJ, wonder if Eloise has been spending more time with him now that she’s not with me.

‘I think we need a sign here.’ Joe interrupts my train of thought, pointing to a small mound in the dirt.

‘Are you sure?’ I ask. Joe’s been carting me around on his tractor instructing me as to where to stake directional signs in the ground for U-pickers for the better part of three hours. We’ve already put down close to thirty, and we need to head back soon to prepare for the meeting.

Joe turns slowly from his vantage point in the driver’s seat, giving me ample time to regret opening my mouth. Clearly I had gotten too used to talking to Eloise, who tolerated my curiosity a little bit more. Joe didn’t say another word.

‘Thought you would need some nutrition before the big meeting!’ Betsy trills as Joe and I enter the kitchen for lunch.

I’m ravenous and she’s made her famous chicken salad.

I’m salivating before she even hands me a plate.

I was never this hungry in the city, but farming works up an appetite.

I can tell I’ve put on muscle even though I haven’t been to the gym once.

Even my mamma chastised me last time we were on the phone, saying I looked different.

‘I’m the exact same.’ I squinted at her over FaceTime, doing my best Blue Steel impression which always makes her laugh. ‘I’m just in better shape, Mamma. I promise. I’ll be home in three weeks.’

She raised her eyebrows but didn’t dwell on the subject.

There was too much church drama she needed to fill me in on.

One of the members of her congregation had won the lottery (a local lottery, she made sure to tell me, not the state lottery.

And do not try this at home. Gambling is a sin.) and it was the talk of the town.

In between bites, Betsy and Joe filled me in on what we had left to do before U-Pick was upon us.

‘Clear the debris, double-check the signage, do another round of insecticide—’

‘What is it, honey?’ Betsy asks me, interrupting Joe, who grunts his displeasure.

‘Oh, nothing,’ I say, quickly taking another bite.

I guess I had made a face without realizing it when Joe mentioned insecticides.

Eloise hates the type the Parkers use. She claims it leaches down the hill and affects their crop.

She also says it’s not safe to eat and the Parkers shouldn’t be getting anywhere near it.

‘I was just thinking about the meeting,’ I lie.

Betsy fans her face with her hands. ‘I’m nervous about it,’ she whispers.

‘Betsy,’ I say, with all the sincerity I can muster. ‘You’ll be great.’

Two hours later she comes downstairs in a freshly pressed dress. ‘We got this.’ I high-five her. Her chin wobbles, but she nods and sets her shoulders back defiantly. ‘If I can handle owning four pigs, I can handle a couple bigwigs.’

‘That’s the spirit!’

Scott’s Orchards sends a woman and a man, Sarah and Harvey, and we’ve barely ushered them in before I hear a knock on the door. Mrs. P. startles, looking up from the pitcher of sweet tea she’s carrying.

‘I’ll get it,’ I offer. ‘You four enjoy the tea. I’ll be right back.’

I ease myself out onto the front steps only to be met with a completely and utterly loopy Eloise.

She flops into my arms, more excited than I’ve ever seen her.

Her cheeks are bright pink and swollen, puffy like a chipmunk.

There’s a piece of gauze pressed to the inside of her cheek.

Tendrils of her hair are escaping, framing her face in a beautiful blonde halo. God, I missed her.

‘It’s you!’ she exclaims, her whole face brightening.

‘It’s me,’ I reply, feeling my heart swell in my chest. ‘Are you OK? What’s going on?’

She points at her mouth. ‘Teeth,’ she says, rolling her eyes. ‘You have my movie.’ She points at my chest, flailing her arm in a circle to do so.

‘Your movie? I’m pretty sure it’s Betsy—’

‘Yes!’ She pushes her way inside. ‘I texted you! The DVD.’ She pauses in the doorway, holding up an empty hand and pointing at it, clearly thinking she was pointing at her phone.

I think back to the texts she sent me an hour ago, ones I was so excited to receive and then so dismayed to read. Ones I dismissed as some kind of distracting gibberish, realizing they were totally serious.

Eloise: Got ur number from Mrs Parker. She says u r home? I am on my way to get a movie.

Me: Eloise? Is this another one of your stupid pranks? We kind of have something important going on today.

Eloise: I’ll be there in five.

Me: What? We don’t even have movies.

‘These kitchen towels are something else,’ I hear Sarah say to Betsy, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

I strain to hear the rest of their conversation, wondering what the more standoffish businessman, Harvey, will add.

He seems cutthroat and sharkish, and I’m worried leaving the Parkers alone with them will turn them off to the whole deal.

‘I’ll go get your DVD if you tell me which one you need,’ I whisper, hoping she’ll keep her voice down. I glance back down the hallway but I can only see Harvey’s back.

‘ Bring It On! All day long! Bri—’

‘Eloise,’ I hiss, cutting her cheer short, ‘can you be a little quieter?’

Admonished, she nods meekly before smiling again. ‘You want to take me somewhere secret?’ she asked, trailing a fingertip up my chest.

It was all I could do not to kiss her forehead again. ‘Not right now,’ I whisper. Where are Cal and Hazel? I think. ‘You stay here, I’ll be right back.’

I manage to find the DVD in my room, thankfully I had spent enough time in there that I knew there was a DVD collection in one of the baskets underneath the desk, and I scurry downstairs, depositing it in Eloise’s waiting arms and shooing her out the door in just enough time for the executives to hardly notice I’d been gone.

I breathe a sigh of relief when Eloise left with her movie, assuming the crisis was averted.

Thirty minutes later .?.?.

Eloise: I told u there were movies.

Me: Technically, you picked up a DVD.

Eloise: Blah blah bring it on!

Eloise: Do u like them because I am going to surprise visit again.

Me: Twice in one day? Are you sure you should be doing that? I feel like the hike up here isn’t great for someone in your condition .?.?.

Eloise: Need Bring It On: All or Nothing .

Me:?I can bring it to you! I just need to finish something.

Each time she stops by, Eloise looked a little less swollen and a little more like herself.

And each time she acts like she’s madly in love with me, smiling up at me adoringly, prattling off sexual innuendos.

She doesn’t seem embarrassed in the least to be throwing herself all over me, and I can’t hide that I love the attention.

It’s entirely impossible for me to continue to be mad at her when she’s so loopy.

As Mrs. Parker would say, I felt my anger towards her disappearing faster than dew under a hot sun.

When I catch up to the group during the farm tour after staying behind to give Eloise another movie, Mrs. Parker winks at me and I feel like my cheeks are on fire.

Eloise likes me again is blaring through my head so loudly I can hardly focus on the rest of the pitch.

Harvey intimidates me into concentration, though.

He appears to be exactly how Eloise would characterize someone who works for a conglomerate.

He reminds me of my future boss, someone who values ambition over all else, something I used to value.

But now it seems a little sinister, lacking in empathy.

I wonder what Harvey would be willing to sacrifice to move further up the corporate ladder.

I sure hope it isn’t the Parkers’ welfare.

Just as the Scott’s Orchards reps are about to leave, my phone vibrates again.

Eloise: I need a hug.

Me: Don’t come up here again, OK? Just ask, and I’ll come bring you what you need.

Me: I can come give you a hug.

Eloise: Now? Where’s my hug?

Nick: I’m wrapping up something but I can come in twenty minutes. I’m in a meeting for school.

Eloise: Schmool. Mouth hurts.

Me: You can’t meet me halfway again if I say I’m coming to you, OK? You really shouldn’t be walking around. I’ll text your mom.

I race down to Eloise’s place as fast as I can, only to see her blonde head bobbing through the fields. I jog to catch up to her and she smiles at me so hard she winces, bringing her hands to her mouth in pain.

‘Hey,’ I said, gently resting my palms on top of hers, ‘how are you?’

‘Better now,’ she says, and she presses her forehead to mine, breathing deeply before wrapping me in a hug, her arms tight around my torso, her cheek softly resting against my chest. I stand there, dumbfounded, wondering what on earth I had been doing these past two weeks when the best feeling in the whole world, the feeling of holding Eloise, has been right next to me all along.

Me: How are you feeling? It was good to see you yesterday. *Laughing-crying emoji* You were pretty cute.

Eloise: I am so sorry. Please blame the drugs. And honestly also my mom, she shouldn’t have let me outside. It won’t happen again.

Me: Eloise, it’s fine. I meant it. It was good to see you.

Eloise: I’m sure you loved seeing me at my worst.

Me: That isn’t what I meant.

Eloise: Look I’m sorry about coming over. I clearly didn’t know what I was doing. We’re busy getting ready for U-Pick so I’ll talk to you later.

In the following two days, I get nothing but radio silence from Eloise.

I haven’t heard from Scott’s Orchards either.

Even the Parkers have been quiet, saying they would ‘think about how they wanted to move forward.’ I didn’t bother telling them that they didn’t need to think about their options before they had any—we opened the conversation with a tentative offer, and Scott’s Orchards hadn’t gotten back to us formally yet.

‘You guys think any more about Scott’s?’ I ask the Parkers as we sit on their front porch. We’re down to the last dregs of our apple cider.

Joe shakes his head.

‘We don’t know how we feel about it,’ volunteers Betsy. ‘It would be a big change for the community .?.?. Scott’s coming in here like that. Everyone would think we were sellouts.’

‘It’s better than being a land grabber,’ I said under my breath.

‘What was that, sweetie?’

‘Nothing, Mrs. P. Just that I didn’t think anyone would think you were a sellout. You’d still be here, at least if they take what we offered.’

Joe grunts. ‘It’s not the same,’ he says.

‘Because you’d have more money?’ I ask. Even though I know that’s not what he’s referring to, I can’t help but point it out.

‘Because someone else would be making the decisions.’

‘You would all be making the decisions. And I’m not saying you have to say yes. We don’t even know if they’ll say yes. But part of my internship is to leave here having given you some options.’

‘We know.’ Betsy softens, fixing her gaze on me. ‘He’s not meaning to be hard on you, are you, Joe?’

Joe mumbles an affirmative.

‘Nick, I’ve been meaning to tell you,’ Betsy says, her expression is one I can’t read, one I haven’t seen before. She looks .?.?. disappointed.

‘Amie asked about you the last time I was in Hal’s.’

My face falls. ‘Oh,’ I squirm, ‘we’re just friends.’

Betsy arches an eyebrow at me. ‘You sure seem to be just friends with a lot of people these days.’

I gulp.

‘Best to get that straightened out before next week. She’ll be at the County Fair, I’m sure.

And so will you. I need help presenting my applesauce.

Now that I think of it .?.?.’ she pauses and looks at me ‘.?.?. I need your help prepping too. There’s an applesauce contest every year.

I never win. But you could help me this time. I want to taste test something new.’

Thankful that Mrs. P. seems to have put aside harassing my relationship choices, I smile at her. ‘Sure thing, Mrs. P. I got your back.’

‘Wonderful. I’m sure you know who we’re competing against.’

I had a hunch, but now, I’m positive.

‘The Andersons,’ Betsy and I say together.

Well , I think, I may not be thrilled at helping Betsy make adult baby food, but it wouldn’t be so bad to see Eloise again. Just to check and see if she’s recovered. As a friend, of course. Even though Betsy thinks I have too many of those.