Page 109 of The Floral Arrangement

“Oh no! The roses have learned to walk. I hope they don’t stage an uprising,” I exclaimed, clutching my chest.

“It’s a peony, not a rose,” Lottie said, a frown visible through the face paint.

An elbow gently bumped my rib cage. “Jeez Roz, I thought you’d be able to tell your roses from your peonies by now,” Olivia teased.

I wrapped my arm around her waist. “Ha ha! Where have you been?”

“I was talking to the mayor about how it would be great to get the bike path extended to Red Tractor Farm and she wholeheartedly agreed.” Olivia’s eyes flashed with excitement.

My heart flipped. It wasn’t humanly possible to be more attracted to anyone than I was to Olivia.

“She’s going to take it to the next village board meeting. Do you know what that means?”

I squinted. “No?”

Olivia beamed. “You’ll need to buy a bike so we can cycle to get quark and apple cider and hang out with Prue at the vineyard.”

“Or we could just drive,” I said, my lips twitching.

Olivia elbowed me. “But cycling is so much nicer. And it could be our thing.”

“Our thing?” I raised my eyebrows.

“George and Hannah are always going off kayaking together. We could be the couple that cycles everywhere.” Olivia opened and shut her eyes in quick succession.

I stared at her, my brow furrowing. “What are you doing?”

“I’m fluttering my eyelashes at you,” she replied indignantly.

I chuckled. “Good lord, I thought you were having a stroke.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Ha ha. But I’m not joking about the bikes. I think it could be nice?”

I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her to me. “Okay babe, you’ve convinced me. I’ll buy a bike.”

The alarm I’d set on my phone to remind me to take the first hayride buzzed just as my parents approached. I looked at the small line of people who were already standing near the wagon.

“I’m just about to do the first hayride. Lottie, Mom, Dad,—want to hop on board?”

“Is there room for me too?” Olivia asked.

“I think you could squish in the tractor with me or sit in the back if you’d prefer.”

“Squish sounds good to me.” Olivia smiled.

“We just have to keep it G-rated. This is a family affair,” I murmured.

Olivia snorted. “Not to mention you’ll be driving a hayride full of kids. Don’t worry. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“The hayride is about to start!” I yelled as we walked over. The kids cheered, bringing another smile to my face.

Ten minutes later, I was driving a cart load of families past the corn maze, where green stalks as high as my knee rose up, their vibrant leaves unfurling, and then past the pumpkin patch, with small vines beginning to creep over the rich soil. Next was the orchards. We had spotted a few tiny green cherries forming on the cherry trees on Friday and small green apples were already hanging from the Royal Gala apple trees, although it was difficult to see them from the hayride. The white blossoms of the Northern Spy apple trees were still visible. Glimpses of the strawberry fields came into view past the orchard, the rows of dark-green plants studded with bright white flowers. To our left, the flower fields stretched out, a riot of color. I smiled as children exclaimed at the sight. I paused the tractor, twisting around to check on Lottie. She was leaning against Mom, beaming.

Olivia put her arm around my shoulder. “I’m glad I hitched a ride with you. This is lovely.”

“It is, isn’t it?” I exhaled, resuming the ride. Having Olivia snuggled next to me, driving a cartload of kids and their families—including my own—around the farm, was pure bliss.

On the way back, we passed the cows’ field. “Wave hello to Thelma and Louise!” I yelled for my passengers’ benefit.

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