She raised one eyebrow. “What’ve you heard?”
I smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” When her eyes widened, I just laughed. “No, I don’t know anything. But even if I did, I’d never rob you of the joy of a surprise proposal, so don’t even try.”
“Great. Have I mentioned how much I don’t like surprises?”
“Too bad.” I stuck out my tongue at her. “Someday you’ll thank me.”
“Maybe.” She hunched over, arms folded across her chest. “So for real, are you all right? Was it hard to see her go?”
I grimaced. “Yeah, but will you think I’m horribly shallow if I tell you the real reason?”
“Too late. I already think it.”
“Bitch.” I rolled my eyes. Meghan was the first female best friend I’d had in adulthood. It’d taken a little while to get used to some of her humor—affectionate insults, in particular—but I’d embraced it all eventually, to Sam’s horror. He liked to complain that his house had been overtaken by estrogen, but I knew that he secretly loved it. “It’s just that I’m not really worried about losing Bridget. But I felt so left out when they left. Here my daughter and her dad are going off for a big family reunion and dinner, and I’m Cinderella who gets stuck at home, alone.”
“Aw, sweetie. I’m sorry. That sucks.” Meghan laid her head on my shoulder.
“You know, when I was dating Flynn, that was one of the things I loved, being part of his family. Or just about. Maureen and I were best friends, and I was in love with Flynn, and his parents were awesome. They always included me—and Sam, too, if he’d come—in their family stuff. I was starving for parent love, and they helped fill some of that. I couldn’t wait until I was really one of them.”
“You know I’m more than happy to share my wacky family with you, right? Mom keeps pestering me to bring you and Bridge down to the Cove for a visit. She’d have a blast.”
“Someday, we’ll do that. Of course, maybe before too long we’ll have a good reason to go down . . . like, say, a wedding.”
She stared at me, her eyes narrowing. “You’re evil. You are really and truly evil.” She stuck out her tongue and jumped to her feet. “Just for that, I’m abandoning you to your brother for the rest of the day.”
“Aw, really? Are you leaving already?”
She stretched her back. “Well, yeah. Remember I was supposed to leave Thursday night, and then circumstances kept me here.” She arched her eyebrows, reminding me that those circumstances involved me coming clean about my child’s father. “I need to go back, catch up on some homework and see what I missed in class on Friday. So you and Sam have the rest of the day together.”
“Fun.” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been alone in our house with my brother. Bridget was always with us, or during the school day, he was in the fields and I was at the stand. Which reminded me . . .”I think maybe I’ll go open the stand for a while.”
“Really? I thought you didn’t open on Sundays until summer time.”
“We don’t usually, but today’s so pretty and warm, we might get traffic.” Plus, it’d get me out of the house and keep me from moping all day, which would in turn probably save my life, since my moping would likely drive my brother crazy.
“Okay, chick. I’m going to grab my bags and hit the road. See you Friday night.” She leaned down to kiss my cheek. “Behave, and call me if you need to talk this week.”
I heaved myself up and walked down the steps and around the house toward the path that led to our stand. Being away from the house when Sam and Meghan said goodbye was never a bad thing.
My hunch about traffic at the stand proved to be correct. We had a steady stream of customers over the course of the afternoon, and I was grateful for how busy they kept me.
About mid-afternoon, as I was helping an out-of-towner select some souvenir jams, I saw a familiar black car pull into the lot. Guilt niggled in my chest; I hadn’t talked to Alex since before Brice Evans’ funeral. He’d texted that afternoon, but I’d been in the middle of the big reveal to Sam, and after that, I’d been too miserable and nervous to talk to anyone.
I finished up the jam sale, wrapping the glass jars and bagging them carefully. Alex wandered around the produce, trailing a hand over the oranges. I caught his wink just before he spoke.
“Miss, I have to tell you, this is the greatest farm stand I’ve ever seen. And I’m an expert, because roadside produce stands are my business.”
“Thank you, sir.” I struggled to keep a straight face. “Just what kind of business is that?”
“I write books about the stands. I travel the world, finding the best and brightest and spotlighting them in my books,Roadside Gourmand: Eating My Way Across the Country One Stand At A Time.” He winked at my customer. “Volumes One through Eighteen.”
“That’s intriguing. I’ve never heard of those books.” The woman smiled at him. “Are they in bookstores?”
“You should definitely ask at your local bookstore. You’ll be mesmerized.” He shot her the smolder, and I watched her melt. “But if you wait for Volume Nineteen, you’ll be able to see this very business as the highlight feature.”
“Well, isn’t that wonderful?” She beamed at me. “You’ve got to be so excited. I can’t wait to tell my friends that I was here when you found it!”
Alex sketched a bow, like the goof he was. “Of course.”
