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"I've made so many mistakes,” I moan
“We all have, dear. Life is hard. It takes honesty and it takes kindness and forgiveness to survive with your soul intact. I'm not saying it's going to be easy. But I know it's worth it.” Her tone is so assured. I wish I could muster half of that.
I nod my head noncommittally. "We'll have to see." I look around the kitchen, "Where's this cook you're always going on about?" I ask, "Is she a ghost?"
"She's already gone to the restaurant for the day. She'll send up lunch later, like she did yesterday. Speaking of, did you enjoy the chicken with carrots and beet salad?"
I laugh and roll my eyes. "That was petty, Jan. We'd only just met and you're already poking fun at me."
"That was not my doing. Those sandwiches were on the menu at the restaurant yesterday. I just thought it was very fitting."
I smile ruefully as I admit "They were delicious, I might have to rethink my dislike of chicken. And carrots and apparently beets. And pork."
"You're down early. No one else is even out of bed yet. Do you want breakfast?"
"No, I'm actually never really hungry in the morning, my coffee will hold me for a few more hours."
"Well, then." She looks at her list and looks up at me with a twinkle in her eye and a smile that makes me nervous. "I have Christmas hampers that need to be delivered to the gift store. I need you to take the Christmas hampers down to the farm Gift Shop. Can you drive?" She asks.
"Yes, but it’s the wrong side of the road here,” I say nervously.
"No worries, on the estate the roads are marked with arrows because we have vehicle rental for our visitors who are staying in the cottages we let out for the holidays and they come from all over the world." She stands up and pats my leg. "You'll be fine. Just drive in the direction the arrows are pointing and follow the signs to the Farm."
Fifteen minutes later, I'm driving to the farm in a small van loaded with hampers, which are really just gigantic gift baskets, brimming with cheeses, wines, meats, and baked goods. People order them as corporate gifts and this batch is being picked up by a local real estate firm this morning.
It's still early, but the sun is already up and shining. I roll the window so that I can enjoy the bite of the cold air. The air is so clean here, the smells of the trees, the sounds of the estate coming to life. It was the crow of the cock that got me out of bed this morning. The way I was enjoying this place was just another sign that I'd outgrown Miami. All of my reasons for staying there had disappeared. I needed to think about my next move carefully. I'd been thinking about moving back to Houston. I’d started seeing an online therapist and it had been helping. I’d stopped a couple of months ago.
I pull up to the front of the store that's attached to the farm and as soon as I step out of the car, my senses are assailed with the smell of hay and horses and manure. We had horses when we lived in Houston, at our ranch in Brenham and we spent many weekends there. I'd forgotten how much I loved the smells that my sisters complained about. All of that went away when my father did. I don't even know who got our horses when my mother sold all of the property she and my father had owned together.
I walk into the store and the jingle of the bell announces me before I can call out. But I don't see anyone so I walk to the counter where two lone cash registers sit. The shelf behind the counter is loaded with bottles of jams, preserves, pickled vegetables, bottles of olives.
"Hello! I'm here with the bask-, I mean the hampers." I call out to no one in particular. I sigh and go back to my van to get the baskets out of the back. I've just flung the door on the side of it open when I hear a car pulling up. I grab one of the gigantic baskets and when I pick it up, it obstructs my view.
"Oh dear, what ever are you doing?" Comes a voice I could live the rest of my life without hearing. The snide laughter in her tone makes me bristle and I juggle the hamper to glare at Camille.
She's standing there, her arm wrapped snuggly in Harry's. I put the hamper back over my face to hide my expression, afraid that my envy is on full display.
"Here, let me take that." His voice is gruff and he doesn’t wait for me to respond before he takes the basket out of my arms. I don't protest, but turn back to the van to get another one.
I can handle his anger, his irritation, his scorn even his disgust. But his kindness, is so undeserved is too much for me to bear. I cover my face with the hamper and follow him into the shop.
"Aren't you helpful?" Camille says as she strolls next to me, her voice full of patronizing humor.
"Well, I try." I respond dryly.
"Wouldn't do for me to confuse the villagers, so I'm just watching." She says.
"How would they be confused? Are you known for your laziness?" I ask her, glad she can't see my eyes rolling.
"No, silly, but one day I’ll be their Countess and seeing me doing manual labor would confuse them. "
The door to the shop opens just as we approach and I feel the brush of Harry's wool jacket against my arm as he walks past us.
"There you are, handsome." She says in a voice that's so different from the one she's been speaking to me in that I almost stumble.
"Hello." He returns unenthusiastically, as he steps back outside.
I put the basket down on the counter and come face to face with her. She’s beautiful. In a co
