I didn’t think I could swallow around the tightness in my throat, so I didn’t bother. Just croaked out, “Yeah, George. Of course you can.”
He grinned wide, and I could tell he had another loose tooth. “Because I’m your assistant farmer.”
“No, because you’re my friend and a farmer in training.”
“Thanks, Joanie. Let’s go feed some more fish.”
The boy bounded up happily like he hadn’t just taken a wrecking ball to my heart.
That evening, I went home and dug a hole in my backyard, churning up the ground and releasing a can of worms back into the soil where they belonged.
eleven
JOAN
Candace and Mercer were getting married in three weeks, just before Christmas, and, as the maid of honor, bachelorette party planning had fallen to me.
The other bridesmaids had given their input. Bonnie had suggested a paint and sip event up in Asheville. Becca had thought a grown-up slumber party would be right up my sister’s alley. And Mac had insisted on male strippers.
I’d taken matters into my own hands.
We’d just finished up dinner at Boards and Bubbles, where we’d ordered and consumed multiple themed charcuterie boards and several bottles of sparkling wine. It was cold, but we were now walking the three blocks over to 6th Street.
Hometown Holler was the country western bar in downtown Kirby Falls, and Candace had been dying to try it out since it opened last month. This seemed like the perfect opportunity.
But before she’d even made it to the front doors of the establishment, the food truck parked outside caught her attention.
“JOANIE!” she squealed loudly, making me wince. She’d had an entire bottle of sparkling wine all on her own. “Did you seriously get Bev’s Sno-Kones truck to come to my bachelorette party?”
“You’re the bride,” I answered by way of explanation.
My very tipsy sister launched herself at me. Laughing, I stumbled back, squeezing her tight.
She pulled back immediately. “I’m sorry. Was that too much?”
Shaking my head, I pulled her in for another hug. “Happy bachelorette.”
“Thanks, Joanie. This is the best.” Then my sister skipped away to order her favorite shaved ice in the middle of winter.
Bev, the owner, had been pretty agreeable to my request. She usually closed up shop after the Orchard Festival in September and only opened back up when the Spring Fling rolled around in March. I was grateful that she’d been willing to do me this favor and let me rent the truck for one early December evening to sit outside the bar, with her teenage grandson inside, taking orders and running the machine. Candace loved Bev’s Sno-Kones, and I wanted her night to be perfect.
“That was very thoughtful,” Bonnie told me as she walked by to join Candace, Becca, Larry, and Corie.
Larry—short for Laramie—was Mac and Bonnie’s cousin. She also worked at Grandpappy’s farm and was part of our book club. I’d known her for years. Corie was Larry’s new girlfriend. She was going to be Candace and Mercer’s wedding photographer, and she seemed like a very sweet person. We hadn’t all scared her off yet, in any case.
Chloe, another book club friend and a Grandpappy’s employee, was sitting out our celebration. She was newly pregnant and sick all the time. She’d called the restaurant ahead of dinner tonight and had a bottle of champagne delivered along with her well-wishes.
Mac, the final member of our party, came to stand beside me. “Now, don’t be mad.”
I turned to look at her. “MacKenzie Eloise, I swear, if there are half-naked dancers inside that building, I will?—”
“Oh, come on. They’re nothalfnaked.”
My eyes bulged.
She snickered. “I’m just kidding, Joan.” Quickly, she added, “Calm down.”
“Famous last words of many men, I’m sure.”
