The dimple on her left cheek is prominent as the summer breeze blows a strand of her hair across her lips. Fascinated, I watch her tuck the piece behind her ear.
“Hi, George. Long time no see.”
My smile diminishes as I try to figure out what she means. She immediately explains. “It’s good to see you. It’s been a while.”
I nod. “Six days and about…” I look at my watch, “...five hours.”
She laughs. “Have you been keeping track?”
“Kind of,” I honestly reply. My cheeks are suddenly warmer than the sunshine beating down on me.
What is it about Madison that gives me this boldness? To speak my mind in front of anyone but my grandfather is rare. For her to bring this out of me is puzzling.
“You still want a private tour of the lavender fields?” I ask.
“Of course. You were my first stop.”
I stand tall, chest thrusting with pride. The fact that she stopped to see me first fills me with immense joy.
“Give me a few minutes to close up shop, and then you can follow me to the farm.”
“You need any help?”
I shake my head. “No. I’ve got it. You can keep me company while I load.” I start to bend over to hoist two vegetable crates in my arms.
“Wait. George?”
I stop what I’m doing and stand tall. “Yeah?”
“I'm glad to see you again.”
My face splits into an enormous grin. “I’m glad to see you too, Madison.”
Chapter Ten
Madison
“Well, here we are,” George says, slamming his truck door shut.
“Here we are,” I repeat.
“The fields are this way.”
We follow a gardenia-lined pathway past the barn and into a clearing, the barnyard deserted in the heat of the Saturday. I gasp when he stops at the gentle slope of the lush field beneath the powder blue sky.
Amid the farm’s idyllic landscape, rows upon rows of vibrant flowers dance in the summer breeze, their intoxicating scent wafting through the air. The postcard-perfect scene stretches before us in pastel purple and deep violet.
“Oh my goodness.”
I clumsily take my phone out of my dress pocket and snap a few pictures. George shoves his hands into his denim and seems humored by my actions.
“I understand your reaction, Madison. It happens to everyone who comes here. After seeing the fields and getting that first whiff, folks go a little crazy. They can’t get over the beauty and the heavy lavender scent.”
“You got that right,” I admit. The intense, harmonious symphony of floral notes tinged with woodsy undertones is soothing and invigorating—a total sensory experience.
“Come on,” he beckons, allowing me to walk before him. His broad grin and confidence are back, probably from being on his home turf.
I follow the well-worn path to the edge of the field, and we stroll through the purple paradise together. He explains how this is his ultimate happy place.
