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After eating, I wash my hands and look over the list of soaps we’re launching for the summer season.
We use the cold process when making goat soap. That means twenty-four hours before we stir the ingredients together, we freeze about 750 ounces of fresh milk in cubes. It keeps the mixture from having a chemical reaction with the lye, which makes the bars look discolored and brown. When the process is done correctly, the soaps are ivory white, and it allows the brightness of the colorant to stand out. Harper’s known for her hot pinks and blues, neon greens and yellows, and it all stems from the prep work we do the day before we’re set to mix and mold.
I carefully lay the trays on the prep tables, then walk over to the goat farm where Ethan, Harper’s husband, works. As soon as I enter, one of the ranch hands greets me with a smile. I don’t have to ask for milk anymore. Instead, a few of them carry the gallons pumped this morning over for me.
“Thank you,” I say, and they’re out the door with a head nod. Once I’m alone again, I carefully pour the liquid into the rectangles. The key is not to overfill or waste a drop. I turn on my audiobook and do this for nearly an hour before my arm gets tired. While I rest my biceps, I look at my phone and notice some missed notifications. I quickly unlock it and am in awe by a picture of my beautiful nephew wailing.
I’m overcome with joy as I hurry and text them back.
Ivy: Congrats y’all. Can’t wait to hold baby Hendrix in just a few hours. I love you two!
Hadleigh: Love you too, sis. I’ll see you later.
With a pep in my step, I stack the trays on top of one another and make my way toward the commercial-sized stand-up freezer. As I’m walking over, I trip over absolutely nothing, and several trays spill down the front of my shirt and jeans.
I’m infuriated with myself for being so damn clumsy, but I also know I’ll smell rotten by the time I get off work. I close my eyes, count to ten, and make a note of how many ounces I’m wearing so Harper’s aware of my mistake. She won’t care, but I hate it when I do stupid things because I want her to take me seriously.
Although I’m full of dread, I send her a text to get it over with.
Ivy: I spilled six trays of milk…on myself.
Harper: Aw, it’s okay. Do you need to go home and change?
Ivy: No, I deserve it for being clumsy.
Harper: You’re harder on yourself than I am on you.
Ivy: I know, but I can’t help it. This was stupid.
Harper: What’s my number one rule?
Ivy: No crying over spilt milk.
Harper: That’s right. It happens!
Ivy: Thank you! Good news is I’ll have everything prepped so we can kick ass tomorrow and make a thousand bars.
Harper: Looking forward to it!
For the rest of the afternoon, I take more breaks so I can focus on what I’m doing. By the time I finish, it’s nearly five, and because I smell gross, I’ll need a shower. I double-check the freezer, clean my prep station, then turn to leave.
During the drive home, my excitement begins to take over. I’ll finally get to meet my nephew, something I’ve been waiting all my life for because I’ve dreamed of being an aunt. I knew it’d happen before I became a mom because of Hadleigh’s age compared to mine.
When I walk inside my house, I find a note from Mom telling me she’s leaving for the hospital. I quickly shower, throw my hair into a ponytail, and head that way in fresh clothes. Considering it’s an hour's drive, I have plenty of time to finish the current book I was listening to at work.
As soon as I turn onto the country road that leads to San Angelo, my nerves get the best of me. It’s impossible to push it away because I know Kane will be there. Having conversations with people is already hard enough, but it’s almost impossible for me to chat with the man I’ve had a crush on since I was a kid. I'd see him around because he and my sister were such good friends, but he always treated me as Hadleigh’s kid sister.
I’ve run into him a few times on the ranch, and he’s been nothing but polite, even if I struggle to get out a simple hello. It also doesn’t help that I’m an introvert who thinks he’s the most gorgeous specimen I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Now that my sister married his identical twin brother and we’ll be sharing a nephew, I’m sure we’ll run into each other more, or at least, I hope.
