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Chapter Seventeen
Natalie putthe directions into her phone, and it was just like when I’d been driving the moving truck. That felt like it had happened another lifetime ago, but it had been such a short period of time. My entire life was different now than before that trip.
I wasn’t going to thank Wyatt for making me go, but maybe there was some reason that we’d ended up in that moving truck together.
“What are you thinking about?” Natalie asked.
“How much this reminds me of when we drove together back to Maine. It’s serious déjà vu.”
We were headed out of Castleton, so that was good.
Natalie’s phone told me where to go and where to turn. After a brief trip on the highway, we turned off into farmland. I tried not to be nervous.
“You’re not taking me to a remote area to murder me, are you? You’ve gotten an awful lot of tips from those podcasts you listen to,” I said.
“No,” she said, laughing. “If I was going to do a murder, I wouldn’t get caught.”
“That is not reassuring, Nat,” I said.
At last, the GPS told me that my destination was the Sunshine Hill Farm. The sign read that you could pick your own strawberries. Way better than getting murdered.
“For real?” I asked. I’d never been to a farm where you could pick your own fruit.
“Yeah, I saw it online and thought it would be perfect.”
It was.
We got out of the car and made sure we were fully sunblocked before getting our own baskets and instructions on how to go down the rows of juicy strawberries and find the best ones.
The farm was crowded with families and excited kids. There were also goats and sheep you could feed, llamas, and hayrides.
Down the hill was a huge barn that served as a venue for events.
“It would be a beautiful place for a wedding,” I said. The barn looked out over a serene pond that had ducks floating on the surface and dragonflies darting here and there.
“It would be,” Natalie said.
We strolled up and down the neat rows of berries.
“What are we going to do with all of them?” I asked.
“Pie? Shortcake?” Natalie said.
“Yes,” I agreed.
“Look at this one,” Natalie said, holding up a berry. It looked exactly like a plump, round butt.
“You have to eat the butt strawberry. It’s good luck,” I said.
“Says who?” she asked.
“Says me.”
Natalie took a bite and then handed the rest to me.
“So we’re both lucky,” she said.
* * *
