Page 84 of Apple of My Eye
‘I don’t want to talk about him,’ I grumble.
‘Oh stop,’ she hushes me. ‘He had eyes for you. We all saw it. And you spent so much time with him. You must miss him a little.’
‘I don’t,’ I retort. But my words are hollow. The morning swallows have started to sing, and their chirping fills the silence.
After a beat Mom says, ‘You know the Scott’s deal isn’t Nick’s fault.’
‘But it is,’ I protest.
‘They were looking for a way out before he even got here.’ She throws up her hands. ‘Hell, that’swhyhe was here in the first place.’
‘That way out could have been me. It could have been us.’
‘Honey.’ Mom reaches a hand over to pat my knee. ‘This might have been a blessing in disguise. We have to face it. It will be too much for us as we get older.’
‘But that’s why I’m here.’ My voice breaks. ‘Isn’t it?’
‘Eloise.’ Mom turns to me, her brows knitted together. ‘What you’re doing here is up to you to decide.’ And with that, she gets up and walks inside, leaving me in stunned silence on the front porch.
Shari: How cute are these baby strawberry plants?? *Heart-eyes emoji*
Evan: love them. Could not be cuter. They deserve more.
Shari: I’m not enough?
Evan: OK hold up. Let’s not cue the immediate post-grad crisis we all knew was on the horizon. I meant they deserve their own Instagram page.
Shari: OH. LOL. That they do.
Me: Not to be the bearer of bad news but I think I may have started my immediate post-grad crisis that I, in fact, did not see coming.
Evan: Babes. Nooooo.
Shari: Tell us more
Me: That’s the problem. There is no more?? What am I doing here? I have spent the last week getting permits to host weddings. I put in an offer for a large-scale donut fryer. For what? So I can play my part to increase capitalism and obesity?
Evan: WOAH.
Evan: This may be bigger than the after-school crisis I was referring to.
Evan: I meant more like I thought one of you would get bangs. *Sent with invisible ink*
Shari: Weddings???
Me: AHHHHH.
Shari: Girl, you need to be starting a gratitude journal before this goes really off the rails.
U-Pick is still busier than ever, all the way through September. We’re officially picked out of apples by October 1st, which is a first for us. Dad celebrates by breaking out his favorite whiskey. I try to muster up happiness but end up going to bed early. All the days feel the same now, even the ones when we celebrate.
Mom and Dad exchange a worried glance when I excuse myself for bed. I wasn’t meant to see it, so I don’t acknowledge it. I don’t have the energy. JJ got officially rehomed last week to the family that met him during U-Pick. They have one other horse, so he won’t be alone. Their daughter was the happiest ten-year-old I’ve ever seen when we dropped him off. I could tell he was happy, nickering and prancing around in the field they fenced in for him. I tried to muster up cheerful gratitude, Iamhappy that JJ has someone to ride him now, that he has a horse-friend to be with, but the farm feels empty without him. It’s like the last dregs of my childhood are gone.
When I’m not missing JJ, I’m busy spending all my time trying to figure out how to raise the money myself, without a loan from the bank, to start regenerative agriculture on our farm. Maybe if I restructure how I was planning to do things, maybe if I build hydroponic gardens to increase our potential yields instead of buying the land next door, I can still figure this out.
The only unfortunate thing is that weddings are still looking like our best option.
And thinking about other people finding their soulmate, falling in love, makes my own heart hurt more than I care to admit.
