Page 97 of Always Meant for You
Ruben brightens. “You’re the Eat Elverna lady—Farm to Mabel.”
My heart stutters.
That phrase. It was in the Bella Mae comments.
“Where’d you hear that?” I ask, keeping my voice steady even as my chest tightens.
“One of the Sperry girls talked about Eat Elverna this morning when she delivered the milk. She said you brought it up at the council meeting.”
“Where did you hear Farm to Mabel?” I ask, working to keep my tone even.
“Funny story. She also mentioned you said big city restaurants like to tout that their food is farm to table.I heardfarm to Mabel. A slip of the tongue, but it kind of fits, huh?”
I nod, relief washing over me. “Yes, it does.”
“You’re making waves, ma’am,” he adds. “Everyone’s talking and smiling. I haven’t seen that in a while.”
“I’m glad,” I say. “That’s the goal.”
“And don’t forget us, Ruben. We told you all about the riveting vote.”
It’s Margaret Young. Betty is with her, both of them beaming as they approach.
“What are you two doing here?” I rise to hug them.
Margaret gestures toward a dining nook off the main room. “We dropped off pies and visited a few old friends. Sally’s holding down the fort at the diner.”
Ruben rubs his hands together with a grin. “Cal and Mabel, perfect timing. It’s pie day.”
Margaret’s eyes sparkle. “Are you two on a date?”
“It’s not a date,” Cal says quickly, voice clipped. “We’re coworkers. Mabel works for the town. We’re . . . working.”
“Cal’s being generous,” I say, swooping in. He’s hurting, and I want to help. “He had plans, and I talked my way into coming along.”
His shoulders lift, a noncommittal shrug.
“But being here,” I say, quieter now, “feels nice. So, thank you for bringing me.”
Cal shifts, and the tension in his shoulders eases. “I don’t think you’ve ever taken no for an answer.”
I hold his gaze. “That might be true. I can be a little stubborn.”
The ghost of a grin curves his lips. “A little?”
The sisters exchange a look.
Ruben grins. “Come on. Sit. Nobody turns down pie. Especially not on a day like this. Right, Mrs. H?” He pats Gladys’s shoulder with practiced care.
She doesn’t respond.
Cal tenses again.
I see the flash of pain behind his eyes, and my heart clenches.
Margaret claims the chair beside me while Betty sits in the one Cal pulls out for her.
“We’ve been up since dawn baking pies for the residents and for the farmers’ market,” Margaret shares.
