Page 89 of Fall is Brewing

The sudden quiet pulls me out of my thoughts.

Then, without taking her eyes off the road, she says quietly, "So..."

I stare out the passenger window. "So."

"You kissed him."

Heat blooms all the way to the tips of my ears. “What? I...you…" I clear my throat. "You saw that?"

She lets out a soft laugh. "Honey." One word. Equal parts affection and don't insult my intelligence. "The two of you were standing behind a booth wrapped in Christmas lights."

“Autumn lights,” I correct her, then cover my face with one hand.

"Whatever. You don’t exactly need to be an intuitive to put two and two together here. It wasn't exactly subtle,” she adds.

"I thought we were hidden!”

"You were…” She smiles. “Sort of.”

A groan escapes before I can stop it. "Oh, this is horrible."

"No." Her voice is gentle enough that I look over. "No, sweetheart." She reaches across the center console and gives my hand a quick squeeze. "I don't think it is. I think it’s kind of wonderful."

Silence settles between us for a mile or two.

The tires hum over the pavement while Orchard Falls slips past the windows, every porch glowing with pumpkins and mums, every maple tree looking like it caught fire without burning down.

Finally, I whisper, "I don't know what I'm doing."

"No one ever does when it comes to matters of the heart.”

"I kissed the man who's trying to beat us."

Patty smiles to herself. "Except didn’t you explicitly say he isn’t trying to do that?”

I sigh. “Well, not in the town. But he’s trying to beat us in the competition.”

Patty shrugs. “So what?”

"So what?” I repeat. Is she crazy?

"I think..." She takes a slow breath, choosing her words with the kind of care only mothers seem capable of. "I think you finally allowed yourself to stop thinking about the orchard for once. You finally allowed yourself to do something for Willa and Willa alone.”

I let that sit for a moment.

She’s right. I’ve given my whole life to this orchard; to my legacy. I’ve been on dates, but I’ve never had time to pursue anything long lasting or real. "I've spent weeks telling myself he's the enemy."

"And how's that working out for you?"

A reluctant laugh slips out. "Not great."

"No." She smiles. "I've noticed."

I lean my head back against the seat. "I don't know how to separate any of it."

"You might not have to."

I turn toward her but she keeps her eyes on the road.