Page 3 of Love in Mission City

Henry and the mother exchanged glances.

I cleared my throat.

All three turned toward me.

I smiled at the little girl. “Would you like to hear about my apple orchard?” I pulled out one of the last fruits I’d harvested, catching the mother’s glance for approval.

She nodded and indicated the little girl could come over to my booth.

Figuring the little one to be about five, I offered my hand. “My name’s Johnson.”

Cocking her head, she considered me. “That’s a last name.”

“Well, my friends tease me and call me Johnny Appleseed.”

“A boy in my class calls me Freckles.”

And given she had a couple dozen across the bridge of her nose and cheeks, I couldn’t argue with the moniker.

“But what’s your real name?”

“Bettina.”

“Is that a family name?” I wracked my brain to figure out if the name had recently made a comeback or if it was still old-fashioned.

The girl nodded, causing her pigtails to flail, the flash of brown confusing my vision for a moment. “I’m named after my great-aunt. My dad hopes she dies and leaves her vast fortune to him.”

I nearly choked on my laughter, but managed to stop myself at the last moment. “Well, let’s hope she doesn’t die anytime soon.”

Bettina narrowed her blue eyes. “She’s, like, really old. Maybe older than you.”

Having only hit my mid-thirties, and not having a single gray hair, I had to wonder about this great-aunt.

“Is that apple for me?”

“It is.” I held it out to her. “I’ve washed it. Now, you shouldn’t take food from strangers. Unless your mom approves it.”

She began to pivot back to her mother, who was in the process of paying Henry and clutching a paper bag clearly provided by him.

“But she already said it was okay, so here you go.”

Bettina turned back to me and her eyes narrowed. “You’re a stranger.”

I glanced up to find her mother tucking the card she’d used to pay with back into her wallet.

Given Bettina seemed pretty astute, I figured she’d see the bag and know. Maybe, though, she believed in Santa.

Knowing nothing about kids, I didn’t have a clue.

“Did you want the apple, darling?” Bettina’s mother placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

I noticed the paper bag had disappeared into a larger canvas one.Ah, smart.

Bettina nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Go ahead and take it.”

The young girl did.