Page 22 of Sweater Weather (Sapphire Falls Orchard #1)

TWENTY-TWO

Bells

“ W ow, the pies look amazing!” Lina praises as Tilly and I unload them.

“Why do you sound surprised?” Tilly asks.

“I didn’t know how much pie making would actually be happening.” Lina laughs.

Tilly and I exchange a glance. We didn’t say anything to anyone, but it must be obvious. I guess if we aren’t fighting, it’s obvious something is going on between us.

“It’s my first time making apple pies, but I’m very excited,” I say.

“Do you think you’ll join the contest?” Tilly asks.

“I don’t think so. I mean, it’s not like I’d win.” I shrug.

“Benny used to join in just for the fun of it,” Lina adds.

“Oh, hmm.” I pause. “Maybe I should join in then. Do you do it?”

Tilly points at herself. “Me? No, I like pie, but I don’t enjoy quickly eating. I’ll get a stomachache.”

“Gotcha.” I nod.

Is this something you have to practice for? It seems pretty straightforward. Like you just stop whenever you feel full or don’t want any more. So it doesn’t seem like there’s much of a catch. I’m curious to see what all the fuss is about, and I wouldn’t mind eating one of the pies I made.

“I’ll be right back. I need to get the rolls of paper towels for after.” Tilly jogs back inside to Lina’s bakery.

“You two seem to be getting along.” Lina winks at me playfully.

“We finally talked, and I think we’re going to actually try to see if it could be something.” I smile.

Hattie is listening to us but not saying a word.

She’s someone I always have a tough time getting a read on.

Her face isn’t happy with this conversation, but I don’t really know why.

Maybe she’s just overprotective of her friends seeing new people—especially someone who didn’t come in with a great first impression.

“I’m so happy for you two!” Lina wraps her arms around me, and Hattie storms away.

“Is she okay?” I look at Lina, who frowns.

“I’ll handle it.” Lina takes off in Hattie’s direction just as Tilly comes back with the paper towels.

“What’d you do to clear a room?” she jokes.

“Excuse me, I was talking to your friends about you. But Hattie got all weird and took off. Lina said it was okay, though.” I explain.

Tilly makes a face, so I raise an eyebrow until she sighs.

“I wasn’t going to say anything, and I hope you won’t. But Hattie told me several months back that she had feelings for me. They were never reciprocated, and I don’t even know if she still has them, but I guess she does.” Tilly sighs.

“Well, now I feel like an idiot. I’m sorry. I definitely won’t say a word.”

It makes sense—I mean, Tilly is gorgeous, and they’re best friends. It makes sense that the lines got blurred for her. It’s not like you can fault someone for having feelings.

“Hey, Bells, sorry to interrupt, but people are starting to get here, and we don’t know where to direct them,” Timmy, one of the people I hired at the start of the season, says, running over.

He’s only twenty and has a bit of nervous energy when it comes to talking to me.

But he does a good job, so I keep him around.

“I’ll handle it. Follow me.” I take the clipboard from him and start looking over the names of everyone participating in the pie-eating contest.

We have enough pies and tables set up—we just have to wrangle in the crowd so there isn’t too much disarray when the event actually happens.

I have Timmy rope off two areas near the contest, with a path down the middle.

After the event, everyone is free to roam the orchard, so we have the tractor and trailer set up to transport anyone.

As everything gets settled, I grab the microphone I bought for purposes like this and try to get the crowd’s attention.

“Hello, everyone! I’m Bells, the owner of Sapphire Falls Orchard! How’s everyone doing today?”

The crowd cheers, and all the contestants are behind me getting ready to eat.

I go over a few quick rules and announcements before taking my own place at the end table.

Tilly takes over on the microphone for me, and I hold my arms behind my back.

Everyone has their body at a ninety-degree angle to be able to start eating as soon as possible.

I try, but that isn’t exactly possible with my belly and boobs in the way.

Tilly says go, and I start eating. It’s a lot harder than I anticipate.

My entire face is basically in the pie because if not, you can’t gather enough in your mouth to actually eat any of it.

I try to use my tongue to maneuver bigger pieces into my mouth, but most of it is stuck to my face.

The gooey inside melts to my cheeks as the crust crumbles, sticking to the inside like glue.

I’m chewing as fast as I can, but I get thirsty pretty quickly, and all I want is a sip of water.

I take a break just to take a breath, but then I’m back to eating the pie, and although this is a bit of a mess, I’m having fun.

Everyone nearby is cheering us on while laughing.

I wonder what I must look like right now.

One of the social media interns I hired is getting content of everyone participating—including myself—so at least I’ll get to see it all later.

“And we have a winner!” Tilly announces, and I’m grateful I can stop eating.

Everyone claps for the winner, a small child who looks like she weighs maybe forty pounds.

I want to ask her how the hell she did it, but instead I’m hearing my name quietly whispered from nearby.

I glance around as I wipe my face clear of any apple pie.

Then my eyes lock on the woman who looks out of place.

In a pair of cheetah-print heels, a pencil skirt, and a pair of huge sunglasses, she looks like one of the Real Housewives—not my mother.

I make my way over to her. What the hell is she doing here? Is she about to tell me in front of everyone I have to sell her the orchard? What am I going to do?

I glance over at Tilly, who is too busy taking photos of the winner to be bothered by what I’m doing. I feel bad for keeping so much from Tilly, but she doesn’t need to be in the middle of me and my family drama.

“Mom? What are you doing here?” I take another napkin off the table and wipe away the remains of the apple pie crumbs from my face.

“I thought I’d come check up on the place since you were in the city. But it turns out you’ve got things under control here, huh?” She takes her sunglasses off and crosses her arms over her chest.

“I don’t understand. I told you I was handling everything.” I pull her toward the empty barn to give us a bit of privacy.

“You’re eating pie like a heathen and acting like this place isn’t up for sale. What’s going on?” She scowls at me.

“It’s part of raising morale. I can’t get sellers in here if it looks dead and like there’s no foundation for using this place. You know the sales were terrible, so I come up once in a while to check on things. I’m not staying for long,” I lie.

“Sales are better?” She looks happily surprised.

“They are. I took us out of the negatives, and now we’re making a huge profit every week. It’s all part of the plan. I know it takes time, but if we want to sell the place, then this is what we have to do.” I sigh.

“I see. I was just surprised to find you here looking so chummy.”

“I am their boss, even if they think I’m keeping the place. It’s not like I could get everyone on board to sell if I didn’t play nicely.”

“Fine. But your father and I want this deal closed sooner rather than later. You’ve pulled it out of the negatives, so there’s no reason for you to keep doing things. I expect to see a proposal and a statement of transfer in my inbox soon.”

“You don’t think we should take more time?—”

She cuts me off. “More time for what? It’s a waste to think there’s anything more in this small town. Especially on this property.” She wrinkles her nose in disgust.

“It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad? Sweetheart, I’m going to have to toss these shoes in the garbage when I’m done here, and they’re Prada. You can’t seriously tell me you’re enjoying yourself here.”

She waits for me to say something. I know I should defend this place, but I don’t have it in me. I know it isn’t a fight I’m going to win—not against her.

“I just meant it’s fine for the time being.” I sigh.

“I just don’t want you wasting your life up here like my sister did. She spent her whole life building this place just for her to die and then the place to almost fail around her.”

“I don’t think that’s what happened...” I say quietly.

“Plus, it’s about time you head back to the city. I know Taylor got that job you wanted, but frankly she was more qualified, and you need to focus your free time on finding someone to marry. You’re almost thirty, and your prospects are getting smaller and smaller.”

It’s not the first time she’s said something like this to me.

It’s always the same—something a mother shouldn’t be saying to her child.

She wants me to marry for money, even though that clearly didn’t work out well for her.

She’s worried my age is a factor and thinks my prospects are dwindling.

It’s like I’ll turn thirty and suddenly be unattainable to all people on the planet.

Something that doesn’t make much sense to me—but then again, most of the things out of my mother’s mouth are outdated. And usually offensive.

“I really appreciate your visit, Mother, but I can assure you I’m doing okay.” I sigh.

“Fine. I can take a hint. I’ll expect to hear from you soon.” She puts her oversized sunglasses back on and shakes her head disapprovingly at me before heading out of the barn.

Sighing, I take a moment before I go back to the crowd.

I take some deep breaths in and out until I feel calmer.

Every time I see my mother, I feel like I need a long nap and a stiff drink.

Something about my family just makes me want to run away to a beach somewhere far away and live there.

But knowing them, they’d find me just to tell me I was doing something wrong.

For people who always have something negative to say about how you’re living your life, they have a tendency to stay in your life.

I don’t know why I let them stick around—probably because she’s my mother. Even though at this point that means very little to me unless you’re talking about genetics.