He frowned. “I’m not sure what to think.”
“I’ve heard that they’re planning a big harvest festival–type opening. There’s a rumor that they’re going to have hayrides and things like that. And they’re going to discount everything, from apples to jams.”
Jake’s stomach twisted. “I heard something like that too.” This was why he’d asked Emily to come and help him with the anniversary. He knew he was up against a giant.
“Mrs. Smith?” Brooklyn called, holding up a cup.
The older woman patted Jake’s shoulder. “Don’t let it get you down. Your family’s orchard is a part of what makes Splendid Lake special.”
“Thanks.” He hoped she was right.
After Brooklyn handed him the two coffees, he added copious amounts of cream and sugar to Emily’s drink and then carried the warm cups to the booth, where Emily was still hunched over the napkin. He stood beside her and took in the elaborate doodle of a pickup truck. In typical Emily fashion, the doodle featured impressive details. The pickup truck’s grill was nearly identical to his, down to the emblem, and the driver wore a baseball cap featuring the Mets’ logo.
She’d drawn on a napkin every day at lunchtime when they were in school. Sometimes she’d draw a few flowers, and on others she’d create an elaborate landscape featuring the lake, the downtown area, or even his orchard. She’d spend nearly their entire lunch period drawing while still participating in conversations, and when she was satisfied that the doodles were complete, she’dpass them over to Jake and say, “For you.” He cherished those things. When his pile of her napkin doodles on his dresser turned into a mountain, he’d found a box and kept them—each and every one.
One night a few years ago he caught Claire snooping in his old bedroom and rifling through the box. When she’d demanded to know why he’d kept Emily’s “ridiculous drawings,” he’d ripped the box out of her hands and told her to mind her own business. She hadn’t liked that at all, but Jake stood firm that he’d never go through her personal things and, therefore, she shouldn’t invade his privacy. Claire said she couldn’t comprehend his “weird friendship” with Emily, but Jake didn’t care.
And Claire obviously couldn’t see that Emily had talent—realtalent—and he would never understand why she wasn’t putting it to good use.
“Not bad,” he quipped, setting her cup on the table.
She gasped and sat back, clutching her chest. “You need to stop sneaking up on me. I’m going to have to put a bell on you.”
He chuckled and slid onto the bench across from her. “Some of your best art has been drawn on a napkin.”
“Right,” she muttered before crumpling the downy paper.
“Hey!” He grabbed the napkin and smoothed it out. “This is too awesome to destroy.”
She rolled her eyes, sipped her drink, and smiled. “The perfect coffee.”
“If you say so.” He tapped the napkin. “I kept every single napkin doodle you made in middle and high school.”
Her brow furrowed. “You did not.”
“Did too. They’re in a box in my old room at my folks’ house.”
She eyed him with surprise. “You’re lying.”
“Am not. I’ll find them for you.” Jake took a draw from hiscup and savored the caffeinated goodness.Ahhh.The Coffee Bean served the best coffee in Splendid Lake—possibly even the state of North Carolina.
Emily gestured toward the counter. “What was Mrs. Smith saying to you?”
“She asked about my dad and then she mentioned that the newly revamped orchard has some big plans, like hayrides and all that. She said my family’s orchard is a staple around here and to not let it get me down.” His lips flattened. “I hope she’s right.”
“Of course she’s right, silly. Hughes Family Orchard is the best.” She dropped her pen into her ginormous purse. “I want to see the new one. Take me there.”
“Now?”
“Yeah, now.” She pushed herself out of the booth. “Let’s go.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he teased. He folded the napkin and slipped it into his pocket as he followed her out into the humid late-summer air.
They hustled along the sidewalk toward his waiting pickup truck, and he took in some of the welcoming signs on that side of the street. The Christmas Shop was open year-round. The Warner, Splendid Lake’s single-screen movie theater, stood next to Morningside Bakery, and the Flower Shoppe was next to Scoops, the local ice cream parlor. Each was owned and operated by local residents.
Glancing to the north, he spotted the town hall, library, fire station, and police station rimming the town square. He breathed in the lake and its familiar smell mixed with the delicious aromas coming from the town’s longtime family restaurant, the Splendid Kitchen, and all the shops that served treats and beverages.
He loved his little town. It was home—and also why he couldn’t imagine moving to Nashville with Claire. The familiar pit openedin his stomach when he considered his longtime girlfriend. They were at a strange fork in the road, but he couldn’t think about that today. He was with Emily, and they were focused on the orchard—his family’s livelihood and legacy.
