“Right. Sure you do.” He glared at her. “Why don’t you admit the truth? You’re just trying to worm your way back into my life, all because youlovesticking to your little plans. But it’s not going to work. We’re done. I’ve moved on. And you should too.”
He tried to walk past her, but she blocked the doorway.
Claire gave him an arrogant smile. “I’m helping your parents while you play in the orchard. You need me. And not only do your parents need me, theyloveme.”
Jake fought the urge to shout and somehow kept his voice even. “Do us all a favor and just go home.”
“Well, I made supper. So I’m going to go back to the kitchen, and you and your little girlfriend can join us.” Turning on her high heel, she flounced back toward the house.
Jake rubbed his eye sockets. It was going to be a long night.
“Eight baskets of apples? That’s all you sold all day?” Dad’s fury seemed to bounce off the cabinets.
Silence suffused the kitchen, and Jake ran his tongue over his teeth while he glanced across the table at his father. He could feel his mother and Claire staring holes into his head, but beside him, Emily was studying her plate of fried chicken, noodles, and stewed carrots. He longed to grab Emily’s hand and whisk her out to their fort.
But he couldn’t. Instead, he was stuck in the kitchen with his angry father, his irritating ex-girlfriend, his disappointed mother, and his sad girlfriend. And it was driving him crazy.
“What are you planning to do now?” Dad demanded. “How are you going to pay all of our bills, along with the employees and Allyson’s tuition? I believe that’s all in the toilet, thanks to your brilliant plan to rebrand the orchard.”
Jake sat up straight. He was almost thirty. He could stand up for himself—andhisorchard. “We got off to a bad start, but—”
“A bad start?” A sardonic bark of laughter erupted from deep in Dad’s throat. “I’d call it an abysmal grand opening, not a bad start. You’ve been insisting that I should step down, that the orchard would be in good hands if I gave you the reins. But you did exactly what I thought you’d do—you failed.”
Jake held up a trembling hand. “Please, Dad, let me speak.”He took a deep breath. “This was just the first day. We’re going to try again tomorrow.”
“And what makes you think anything is going to change between today and tomorrow?”
“I’m going to post on the orchard’s website and social media accounts,” Emily announced.
Jake’s eyes snapped to hers. He’d been certain she’d given up on him, thanks to Claire’s interference. But Emily’s eyes were laser-focused on his father. Jake was so overwhelmed with gratitude that he touched her hand, but when she moved it away, her rejection felt like an ice pick to his heart.
“I’m not giving up, and I hope you won’t either,” Emily said. “I believe in the orchard.” She turned toward Jake. “And I believe in your son.”
A snort sounded from the far end of the table, where Claire sat.
Jake shot her a look, and she stared defiantly back at him.
Emily swallowed. “I think if we keep publicizing the orchard, then people will come. We can’t throw in the towel after one bad day. The anniversary celebration is Saturday, and it’s only Wednesday. We have time to promote it and get people in the door.”
“I agree with Emily,” Mom chimed in. She looked at her husband. “Your parents and grandparents went through hard times, dear, but they never gave up. In fact, we suffered last year when that terrible storm took out more than half of our crop. We didn’t give up then, and you can’t now. If you did, what would your father and grandfather say?” Her face dared him to challenge her.
Preach it, Mom!
Dad opened and closed his mouth before clearing his throat. Then he turned toward Emily. “Well, you go ahead with your posts, and we’ll see what happens.”
Emily sat back in her seat, a satisfied smile on her face.
Mom looked over at Claire. “This fried chicken is delicious. You’ll have to give me the recipe.”
“Thank you.” Claire beamed. “It’s my grandmother’s. I’ll text it to you.”
While Mom and Claire prattled on about recipes, Jake leaned close to Emily.
“Thanks for saving my butt.”
Her smile faded. “Sure,” she said before taking a bite of chicken.
“You okay?” he asked.
