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“You know, if you had just stayed, you would know.”
But then again, if he had stayed, I wouldn’t have had this opportunity to take a peek into her life.
Glancing around the living room, I zero in on a large plant she has in the corner. Perfect. It’ll echo.
“Plant. I have to go.” This time, I hang up before he can say anything else.
Crossing the room, I glance toward the stairs, and my eyes stick on the pictures hanging on the wall. At least two dozen, all in bronze frames, must climb with the stairs. Not being able to help myself, I make my way over and inspect each one. Most of the pictures are of her and her friends performing, winning awards, on vacation, and at Ash’s wedding. There’s one of her solo performing in black concert attire, there are two of her family, where none of them look happy, and there’s one of a little girl sitting on her lap.
Of course Goldie is beautiful in all of these pictures.
Looking around, I can’t help but think that maybe over the last couple of weeks, I’ve misjudged her. I know how that feels and should probably attempt to do better.
But even then, doing better will not stop me from planting this device.
Moving to the corner plant, I pull the small white device from my pocket and flip the switch on. It chirps, and my lips curve up in a victory. The battery will only last a few days, but I can sneak back in to replace it every now and then. Peeling the paper off the back to free the adhesive, I lean down and press it to the back side of the planter. It chirps again, and I chuckle. Is there anything more annoying than a cricket you can’t find? With the sound playing irregularly every two to fifteen minutes, it’ll be hard to find.
Standing back, I look around one more time, then get the hell out.
10
CORA
All morning, I’ve been hearing cars going up and down the road and people laughing. Juliet mentioned she was coming up this weekend to bring Bryce to Briggs’s opening weekend, and I had to admit I had no idea what she was talking about. Of course this is when she teased me about being a recluse and not in touch with reality. Apparently, there are advertisements for his orchard all over town and a large sign at the base of our road, right where our For Sale sign was. She explained that he throws this party every year to promote his “You Pick” apple orchard.
I’ll admit it’s a great idea and a good way to gain some publicity, but it sounds like Briggs is having the biggest party ever, and it’s only ten in the morning. Wandering outside, I stand on the porch and glance toward his house. Of course I can’t see anything since the trees line the road and block the view, but it doesn’t stop me from staring in that general direction. The weather is mildly warm, and there’s no cloud in sight. The perfect day for this.
“The perfect day not to be inside my house,” I say to myself as I settle into one of the rocking chairs. It seems a cricket has found its way in, and I can’t find it. It’s not making a lot of noise, but it’s frequent enough to make me want to pull my hair out. I’ve looked for it, but I can’t find it. It’s a shame too because I would rescue it and set it free. As it is, I suspect it’s in my house until it dies.
Was I planning on going to the party? No. But by the time Juliet and Bryce arrive, I’ll admit, I’d grown to be fifty-fifty annoyed and intrigued. The murmuring voices sound happy, and the children are laughing. Throwing in the towel, I decide to go, so together, the three of us walk down the driveway toward my nemesis.
Will I see him?
Will he ask me to leave?
At this point, I would say that’s a viable option.
“Mom, I’m so excited for the donuts,” Bryce says as he skips ahead of us. “Do you think he’ll have caramel apples like last year?”
Bryce has gotten taller. Every time I see this kid, it’s like his legs get lankier, and his feet get bigger.
“I’m not sure, but this is an apple orchard, so I’d say the odds are high,” she tells him, ruffling his hair.
It’s been a little over a week since the last time I was here, and every morning around ten, I think of Jane’s offer to come over and visit with her. I do wonder about the donuts, and by now, I’m not sure if I’m avoiding them out of principle or stubbornness.
“You know I haven’t had any of these famous donuts yet,” I tell them, and they both turn to look at me like I’m crazy.
“Ms. Cora, you are missin’ out,” Bryce says at the same time Juliet says, “Why not? You basically have direct access to them twenty-four seven. I can’t imagine living this close to them. We would be eating them every morning, and well, the hips don’t lie. Everyone would know why I look the way I do.”
I laugh.
“Stop. First off, you are beautiful. Second, you know you’d eventually get sick of them.” Although, if they’re as good as everyone says, I can see how craving them daily with a hot cup of coffee could become problematic.
“Ms. Cora, no one could ever get sick of these donuts.”
Rounding the corner, I’m shocked to see so many cars. There must be at least fifty, and they are parked up and down the road in a field he opened on his side of the mountain just before his house. Usually, our mountain is so quiet, but today, it’s bustling with people and just feels strange. I’ve gotten so used to the quiet and the lack of people that I’m not sure about this. I know it’s wrong to feel like this is an invasion. After all, this is his business, and I don’t own the whole mountain, but still.
“I can’t believe how many people are here for this,” I tell her as we step onto his property and head toward the cider house, where there seems to be a crowd.
