“And we survived,” Cary said.
Most of us did.Melissa didn’t say it. Saying it would only be a reminder of Calvin, and lately it made Melissa more uncomfortable than usual to bring Calvin up with Cary, even though they’d been friends.
The weight of silence hung between them as Melissa and Cary set up their neighboring booths and tables. Market organizers walked around the perimeter, answering questions and handing out monthly forms to report sales. The morning had a chill, but Melissa could smell the threat of heat in the air.
“Gonna be hot,” she said.
“Yeah.” Cary put out a worn harvest lug of peaches and a box of figs. While Cary’s main crop was citrus of all kinds, he planted a few rows of almost everything so he’d have a year-round presence at the market. “You going to the town council meeting tonight?”
“I will if I can, but most of those meetings are just old men bitching about the government, so it’s not the highest priority, you know?”
“I can’t blame you for that. I’m going though, so if you have time—”
“I’ll let you know.”
“You thought any more what you’re going to do about the horse?”
Melissa didn’t hide the derision in her voice. “Nothing much I can do. The horse belongs to them. They can put whatever conditions they want on a gift, including only being able to ride when she comes out to visit them.”
Melissa hadn’t been growing long enough to have year-round fruit, but she had lemons, grapefruit, and a whatever excess fruit they could spare from the kitchen garden her mother kept. Added to that, Joan’s lemon curd and orange marmalade were popular all year round.
Cary kept his eyes on his table. “That was a shit move, giving her a horse like that.”
Melissa glanced around to make sure Abby hadn’t snuck back within earshot. “Yeah, it was. But it’s standard for them, so she’s going to have to get used to it. They pulled this stuff with Calvin all the time.”
“Ox told me about the house.”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t believe it. They built us a house so Calvin wouldn’t leave. It’s still there. No one lives in it. There’s just a cleaner who comes once a month unless we’ve been there to visit.”
“So you’ve stayed in it?”
Melissa shrugged. “Better than staying in their mansion.”
Cary frowned as he took a box cutter and sliced off a piece of cardboard from his truck bed. “Mansion, huh?”
“It’s weird. Huge place for two people and a live-in cook.” Melissa shook her head. “Though I guess Calvin’s sister also lives on the property with her husband and kids, so it’s not a complete loss.”
“There is… so much going on there,” Cary said. “But mostly, I’m pissed off on Abby’s behalf.”
Melissa felt the rush of energy that signaled the return of the Abby.
“Why are you pissed off, Cary?”
“Hey”—Melissa caught her daughter’s eye—“don’t saypissed.”
Abby made a put-upon face. “You say it all the time.”
Melissa mirrored the face. “And I also drink beer. You can’t do that either. Too bad for you.”
“So I have to be twenty-one before I can say the wordpissed?”
Was it a ridiculous thing to be fighting about? Yes. Did that matter? Absolutely not.
“Yeah.” Melissa pulled another lug of lemons from the back of her truck. “You have to be twenty-one to say pissed off. And lots of other bad words too. It’s the law.”
Abby rolled her eyes hard. “It is not.” She turned to Cary. “Hey, adult.”
“Hey, kid.”