Page 41 of Townshipped
Ella Mae hears me and rolls her eyes. “Behave, MacIntyre. Your imported bride doesn’t know me yet. Have the decency to let me make my own impression.”
“Not my imported bride,” I correct Ella Mae. “And I’d like to meet the person who could keep you from making your own impression.”
I look over at Em and she’s smiling big like she’s never been so entertained.
“I’m Em. Nice to meet you,” she says, sticking her hand out.
“I just have to share this moment with my followers,” Ella Mae says. She doesn’t pause to ask permission.
“Hey, Peeps!” Ella Mae says, raising her phone at an angle over her head so Em and I are behind her. “I’m greeting the newest arrival to our quaint town. Em, say hi to my peeps.”
Em waves. I turn my head and study the signage above the Seed-N-Feed, purposely angling my body away from the camera. Who knew birds were nesting in both the Es in Seed? I pretend to be enthralled by the bird nests, silently hoping that cardinal feels the need to fly the coop and relieve itself right now about five feet to my left.
Ella Mae goes on about being the welcoming committee and how every town needs to be filled with positivity and hospitality. Finally, she finishes by giving a megawatt grin to the phone camera while saying something about putting the YOU in fab-YOU-lous today.
When Ella Mae turns off her cell, she says, “Well, I better skedaddle for now. It was great meeting you, Em. We’ll have coffee or something soon. I’ll hook up with Aiden to arrange a time. He won’t come along, obviously. Just us girls. Take care. It’s great having you in town.”
Ella Mae totters away in these boots that go all the way up her legs, tight jeans, and a fur coat that is more like a vest. That woman.
Em starts laughing as soon as Ella Mae is out of sight. “She’s something.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“So, I’m your imported bride?”
I shake my head. “Let’s get the goats some pellets.”
15
“EM”
Being in town feels like turning the volume up on a song. I’m used to the quiet life Aiden and I have been sharing on the farm. Even though Bordeaux is small and cozy, people seem to come out of the woodwork to say hello and strike up conversation during this outing of ours.
I lean toward Aiden while he pushes the cart around a corner and whisper, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think someone sent out a secret signal telling everyone I’m at the Seed-N-Feed so they could quickly hop in their trucks and catch a sighting of the new girl in town.”
“We have our form of the bat signal. It’s beyond efficient at spreading news and usually not concerned enough with accuracy. I promise you phones have been ringing and texts have been flying since we got out of the truck.”
“Seriously?”
“Never underestimate a small-town rumor mill.”
As we meander the aisles of the farm store, some townspeople stand back and stare. A few even point while they exchange whispers.
We finish putting the last things Aiden needs into the cart and make our way to the checkout. The cashier makes small talk.
“How’s the goats?”
“Good. Survived the storm. We’re ready to birth the kids in a few weeks or so.”
“That’ll be somethin’. They’re always so cute.”
Aiden nods and then hefts the bag of pellets onto the conveyor belt so the cashier can scan it. The bag’s not the only thing she scans. Her eyes run up and down me—twice.
She turns to Aiden. “Word had it you brought in a woman friend to keep you company.”
Barely turning toward me, she says, “Nice to meet ya. I’m Sherry.”
I’m about to answer when Aiden says, “Word has it, huh?”
