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“A lot is still the same.”
I exhale a short laugh. “Nothing changes here.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
Frustration tightens my stomach. None of this is going right. Releasing her, I swim to the pier and hoist myself out of the water. Standing on the pier, I push the water off my skin roughly with my hands.
“I thought you were moving to Dallas.”
She’s in the water holding her hand up for me to help her. I bend down and lift her out of the pond.
“Is that what’s bothering you?” She’s standing in front of me practically naked, dripping wet, and my blood is hot in my veins.
“Nothing’s
bothering me. Taron and Leon are probably wondering where I am.”
I’m not sure why I’m pissed all of a sudden. My clothes are still damp, but there’s no way I’m riding back to the house in boxer briefs. I pull my jeans over my hips.
“I talked to Leon earlier.” She slips the dress over her head. “He really wants to get more involved in running the orchard.”
“Is that what he’s saying now?” I scoop up my shirt and we’re walking back to the waiting vehicles. “Last year he wanted to work in sports radio.”
“Maybe… sometimes you think you want one thing, and situations change. You realize you want something different.” A tiny smile curls her lips.
“Leon is too young to know what he wants.”
“He’s older than you were when you took over the place.”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“Hey.” She catches my arm, stopping me. “What happened back there?”
“I just remembered I’ve got a lot to do.”
Her eyes narrow, and the smile disappears. I don’t know why I’m pushing her away, other than I’m frustrated. I don’t like feeling like I have no options.
I want her to have everything she wants, and I’ve got one hundred acres of peaches to harvest. How does that situation play out? I don’t know, and it’s getting to me.
7
Mindy
Oprah says, you are where you are in life because of what you believe is possible for yourself. Maybe I don’t believe it’s possible for me to be with Sawyer. Or maybe I don’t really believe I can show him I’m a strong, independent woman.
All I know is he pissed me off yesterday at the pond. I practically threw my naked body at him. I was in his arms in the water, sure he was going to kiss me. Hell, I could feel his semi against my thigh, and he just shut down, pushed me away.
We haven’t talked since he got back? No shit, Sherlock.
Maybe this is more like the situation where Oprah says a man will only treat you how you let him.
“Melinda Claire, I need your help!” Ma is down in the kitchen cooking enough food for an army.
I got home from work and ran upstairs for a quick shower. Now I’m dashing around my bedroom, pulling on a denim skirt and tank top, smoothing some lotion on my freshly cleaned face. Adding a touch of eyeliner and pink lip gloss. I don’t bother with shoes, running downstairs to take over pasta preparation.
“Is that what you’re going to wear?” She holds out a hand. “You’re not even wearing makeup.”
“It’s just Deacon, Ma.” I put the quart-sized boiling pot under the sink to fill, then spin around her to add it to the stove. “Why are you making so much food? He’s not a glutton.”
