Page 55 of Apple of My Eye
–‘Redneck Woman’ (Lily is fantastic at this one)
–‘Party in the USA’
–‘.?.?. Baby One More Time’
‘I’ll be posting a new video every day while I’m here for the fall with a fun farm tidbit, so you all can learn more about farming. Then, when the apples are ready to eat, I expect you to visit! Stay tuned, Mrs. Parker will be sharing some of her classic family recipes.’ The screen blurs and text appears on top of the video.
Every June, bees are hauled out to the orchards en masse to pollinate the trees. Multiple hives! The farmers say the beats of their wings sound like rolling thunder.
‘That wasme!’ I yell at the phone. ‘I said that!’
‘What was you, dear?’ Mom asks, spinning around from where she is sitting. She’s leaning over her iPad, playing a card game on her phone at the kitchen island. As soon as I showed her there was a gin rummy app, she’s been intent on practicing. But she refuses to tell Dad. She’s too excited about the possibility of a surprise win.
‘Another one of Nick’s videos,’ I say with an exasperated sigh.
‘Gosh, that boy is busy. I feel like you’ve shown me a new video every day this week. And you helped him with one?’ She lowers her reading glasses to the bottom of her nose. ‘Finally! I was wondering when the two of you would make up. Is that what you were doing with all those supplies you got delivered to the garage.’
‘I didn’t help him,’ I mutter, ‘he stole it. And I’m sorry I’m cluttering up the garage, it’ll be worth it.’
‘I know it will.’ She walks towards where I’m sitting on the couch and peers over my shoulder, reading the text. ‘That’s so pretty,’ she muses. ‘You could have been a poet.’
‘Thank you, but that is not the point.’ I glower. ‘He used it without telling me. He shouldn’t be allowed to do that.’
‘He did?’ Her eyebrows crease together.
‘I mean, he told me he was interviewing me for his work but .?.?. yeah, kind of .?.?.’
‘Hmm.’ She gets up and makes her way back to the stove. ‘Well, did he send it to you? Maybe that was his way of asking you.’
‘Mom,’ I say, ‘Lily sent it to me. If he was going to ask, he should have asked a million views ago.’
‘HowisLily?’ she asks, a smile brightening her face. ‘I miss that girl.’
‘She’s home this weekend,’ I say. ‘She wants to go to karaoke.’
‘At Tractor Tavern? How fun!’ She claps her hands.
‘I guess .?.?.’
‘You love karaoke.’
‘I know,’ I agree glumly. ‘I haven’t been feeling so much like myself lately,’ I admit, ‘so I don’t know if I’ll want to sing in front of a huge crowd.’
She crosses the room to squeeze my shoulder. ‘Maybe it’s just the thing you need then. Oh, Linden called,’ she says, returning to the island to continue playing her game. ‘He says hello. He asked how you were doing. Did you know, he finally got over his hatred for green peas?’ She beams.
My ribs will be sore tomorrow, but a hug from Lily is worth it. I give her strict instructions as soon as she stops squeezing the life out of me.
‘Barn first, remember?’ I say, reminding her of the deal we made when I picked her up from the airport. We both know I would have picked her up no matter what, but I figured I might as well call in a favor.
‘Right, right,’ she says, but she looks wistfully at my front door. I know she wants to say hello to Mom, but I also know Mom will talk her ear off and then she won’t be able to help me. I smuggle her across the yard and into the side door to the barn instead.
‘Lou!’ she squeals when she steps inside. ‘Cuh-ute!’
‘You think?’ I grin. ‘I was hoping you would like it.’ I twist my hair around my finger. Lily has long been my most fashionable friend, someone even Shari and Evan admit they can’t compete with. Living in New York City does that to a person. I trust her taste unequivocally.
‘Yes,’ she gushes. ‘You need to put this stool here—’ she picks up the antique wooden stool I found in the attic and sets it down ‘—and move this hay bale to the red backdrop.’ She hauls a large, shedding bay of hale to a different corner of the barn. She wipes her hands off afterward, surveying the space. ‘This is perfect. In fact, can I use it?’ She sits down on the hay bale she just moved and props her chin into her hands.
‘Yes,’ I say, ‘but only if I get to use the photos.’
