Page 37 of Love and Lattes at Pumpkin Hollow
‘People seemed to think it was an outlandish idea when I first mentioned it, though.’
‘Well, this town likes its traditions. Perhaps we are all a bit stuck in our ways. After you mentioned it, I looked up pumpkin patches and they seem to be popular in larger places. So, once everyone tries it out, why can’t it be so here? I had to talk my husband and son into trying this café van idea out. But if it works out, no doubt they will claim credit.’ She rolled her eyes, making me chuckle. ‘Listen: Birchbrook needs you and your father here. Oh, and Maple, of course.’ She glanced over the counter to smile at Maple, who was wagging her tail like crazy. ‘So, people will be on your side, I’m sure.’
‘Fingers crossed. Thank you, Pat.’ I knew if she was on board, she could convince others as she was such a Birchbrook stalwart. ‘I’m so nervous for the opening on Monday.’
‘That’s only natural, dear. A few people have mentioned that young man is still staying with you and helping you with the patch?’ She looked at me and I knew that meant we’d been the source of town gossip.
‘Yes, in one of our cottages. He’s working from the farm, helping out with the business side of things. He’ll head off once the pumpkin patch opens,’ I said, trying not to think about that. I just hoped he’d leave with the endeavour a success and not with my dad’s agreement to sell the farm.
‘He’s very handsome,’ she added with a sly smile.
‘I guess so.’ I shrugged, trying to come off as nonchalant as I possibly could. ‘Right, I’m going to ask the other businesses if they’ll display these too so I should get going. But can I have a takeaway drink?’
Pat gave me a look that suggested she knew I was changing the subject but she didn’t press me any more, thankfully. I didn’t want anyone in town apart from Sabrina to know that Dylan and I had spent a night together. ‘What would you like, Willow? And would Maple fancy a Puppuccino?’
It had been another long day. I was feeling slightly defeated by it as evening came around. Only a few of the businesses I had visited after the café had been happy to display anything relating to the pumpkin patch. A couple had said there was no space for advertising or were against it, and then a few were openly sceptical about a pumpkin patch in town, which had been really disappointing.
Why would anyone want to go somewhere just to buy pumpkins when you can get them at the supermarket?
Sounds like a gimmick and a fad to me. I bet no one will be interested in pumpkin patches in a couple of years’ time.
Won’t the farm be muddy? What will you do if the weather is really bad? People won’t want to traipse around in the rain.
Dad came over to the sink I was washing up dinner dishes in as I let out a heavy sigh. ‘Don’t worry too much about what they said today,’ he told me, guessing the reason for my melancholy. ‘Pat is right about people round here not being open to change. Think about it: we do the same things every year – the Halloween lantern festival and the tree-lighting ceremony. And most of us have lived here since birth. What about how outsiders are treated when they first move here? Once they come to the farm and have a great time, they won’t remember being sceptical about it.’
‘Maybe. But the initial reaction hasn’t been what I hoped. Think about how you and Sabrina reacted at first too. What if people around here won’t even try it out because they don’t think they would enjoy it? And Mary at the florist’s had a point about bad weather. I know the actual patch will be covered but people do have to come up to the farm and walk over from the parking area. Plus, the café van will be outside. It is likely to get muddy…’ I rubbed at the dish in the sink harder than was strictly necessary.
‘We’re country folk; what’s a bit of mud, eh?’ He nudged me and I gave him a small smile. ‘Where’s Dylan this evening? He would have cheered you up over dinner.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, hiding the blush that Dylan’s name instantly caused. ‘He said he had too much work so is in the cottage,’ I added, wishing Dad would stop grinning at me. If I was being honest, I had missed Dylan at dinner. He seemed to add an extra spark to the conversation. I didn’t want to get used to him eating with us, though. One day soon, he wouldn’t be here.
‘I just mean, he’s very encouraging of the pumpkin patch and he’d reassure you. I know you’re worried and we don’t know what will happen but I’ve never seen you so fired up about something. It’s nice to see. And it’s looking really good. I should have been more supportive from the start.’ Dad picked up the clean dish and began drying it, our familiar routine providing some comfort.
‘You were worried, though.’ I remembered my conversation with Dylan about my dad, and his brother. ‘I guess sometimes, it does hurt when you say I’m just a dreamer.’
‘Oh, I never mean to hurt you, love. You know what a worrier I am. I worry about you. I don’t want you to be upset if this doesn’t work out. You wear your heart on your sleeve, always have done. Maybe when you told me about this idea, I did think it was just a big dream. But you have worked really hard. You’re making it happen. You’re a dreamer, yes, but you’re a doer too.’ Dad smiled at me and I returned it, glad that he was no longer angry with me for sticking my head in the sand. I had faced it now. And yes, I would be heartbroken if it didn’t work out but this experience was teaching me that I could do things if I put my mind to them.
‘Knock knock.’
We both turned to see Dylan in the doorway. Maple jumped up from her bed where she’d been enjoying a bone to greet him. ‘I thought I’d go to the pub for a drink now that I’ve finished work – anyone fancy joining me?’
‘I have a date with my jigsaw puzzle but Willow—’ Dad began but I jumped in before he could say that I would go along.
‘Sorry, but I’m knackered; I need a bath and an early night,’ I said quickly. I turned back to the washing-up.
‘Oh,’ Dylan said. ‘Sure, okay. Well, I’ll see you both tomorrow then.’
I heard him leave and I exhaled.
I felt my dad studying me.
‘Care to tell me what that was all about?’ he asked. ‘Dylan looked really disappointed.’
‘I just don’t think it’s a good idea to spend too much time with him outside of the farm work. It’ll be too hard when he leaves.’
‘Stubborn,’ Dad muttered as he walked away.
Alone in the kitchen, I went over to the window and watched Dylan heading towards our gate. Part of me really wanted to rush after him and have a drink together but surely, it would bring back memories of last weekend when we’d stayed at the inn. And I’d thought about it enough. I didn’t want the temptation to kiss him again, and being out at night alone together felt like it would bring a whole heap of temptation along with it.
