Page 25 of Horn of Plenty
Cal
Face your partner! Do-si-do!
Cal observed his grandmother and watched in awe as she clapped to the beat of the square-dancing music. Mabel had hired musicians and a caller for Elverna’s first square dance under the stars, and just like everything else that had transpired over the last twelve hours, it proved to be a hit.
The sun had set, but downtown Elverna was still the place to be. Couples sashayed and twirled as the lights crisscrossing the square lit the scene in an otherworldly glow. On the other side of the square, Betty Young manned a table selling slices of pie and helpings of casserole made with local and organic ingredients, and the line hadn’t let up in hours. Vibrant and alive, laughing children holding ice cream cones chased each other through the crowd of square-dancers as families strolled down Elverna’s Main Street. It had been years since he’d seen the town like this.
Mabel wasn’t kidding when she told him that things were going to get busy.
Busy was an understatement.
The day had passed in a blur. Thanks to her passport idea, throngs of people visited each of the booths. Enthusiastic customers, eager to purchase farm-fresh organic food, flooded into town. People had come from all over—some traveling over one hundred miles to take part. And no one left empty-handed. They’d sold out of everything. Carrots, kale, pies, jams, milk, cheeses, berries! You name it, folks wanted it. And when their supplies ran low, Mabel pulled out sheets of paper, allowing customers to sign up to receive email updates and indicate if they were interested in purchasing a weekly box of seasonal Elverna produce and baked goods.
Hundreds of families indicated that they were.
People even wanted to buy the Eat Elverna hats. He’d retrieved the box with the extras, and like everything else, they’d sold like hotcakes.
When will you be getting more hats?
Will you offer shirts or mugs?
Can we order online?
When will you know what you decide to plant and harvest next?
People couldn’t get enough!
It was as if a switch had been flipped, and all of a sudden, the entire state knew about them. Mabel was also absolutely right about people feeling a connection to the town. While he’d never met any of their customers, they recognized him. Smiling, they’d ask about Cal the Goat or one of the cats. Keen on supporting community agriculture and sustainable farming practices, it was uncanny how many conscientious individuals they could reach with the right kind of online advertising—an untapped well of consumers that he never would have found without Mabel’s help.
But none of that held a candle to what it was like to watch her in action.
Mabel sailed around the square, answering questions, directing customers, and handing out Eat Elverna passports. She’d facilitated several cat adoptions at Claudine’s animal rescue booth. She connected the Sperry Dairy with the director of a daycare center a few towns over that was looking for scheduled milk delivery, and she helped patrons in search of gluten-free alternatives, like the spelt and amaranth they grew and milled here in town.
She’d taken everything she’d learned during their farm visits and wove it together into an Eat Elverna narrative that got people talking—and buying.
And when it was finally time to close the market to prepare for the evening events, there was so much cash inside the lockbox, he could barely get it to shut. It was like something out of a dream. Elverna was on track to start making a profit, and he had the prettiest girl in town by his side.
He sat back in his chair, taking in the festivities as a breeze carried in the earthy scent of the ancient grains that grew in the fields surrounding the town. The rollicking square-dance tune ended, and the crowd applauded the musicians and the caller.
“Is this how you remember it, Gran?” he asked. Ruben had brought her over earlier in the day. And while she hadn’t said much, her eyes were alert.
Margaret sat down next to his grandmother. “Isn’t this something!” she exclaimed as the band started playing another song, and couples hooked arms, following the caller’s commands.
Red-cheeked from dancing, Sally joined them at the table along with Elias and Claudine.
That was the other thing. He wasn’t sure if Mabel had noticed since she’d barely stopped moving today, but he’d bet their entire berry crop that Claudine and her dad were an item. And while Elias and Claudine had only danced to one song, and Mr. Muldowney took it much slower than the others, he hadn’t seen his boss that active in years—or that animated.
Perhaps love was in the air.
Love.
He allowed the word to float in his mind as the image of Mabel asleep in his arms materialized, and his limbs ached to hold her.
“It’s been ages since we’ve had a night like this! What a day!” Sally remarked, fanning herself.
“At least twenty years,” he answered, still musing on Mabel’s sweet kisses.
Mr. Muldowney clapped him on the shoulder, and he pushed his thoughts of the man’s daughter aside.
