Page 38 of You Had Me At Pumpkin Patch
She reached over and squeezed his arm. ‘Thank you. And it’s OK to just be you.’
He gave her a strange look. ‘I... I am. I just don’t want to get this wrong.’ His hand inched towards his pocket and then snapped back. ‘I’m sorry. This is not my usual thing.’ His dark eyes looked lost for a moment. ‘My usual thing is pretty rubbish.’ He blinked, perhaps not meaning to have said the last bit.
Rosie reached over for a double squeeze, rocking the boat again. ‘I love your usual thing.’ The bat boxes, the quirky pumpkin facts, his passion for things she’d never even thought about. She was coming to see that she really meant it. His way of seeing the world was stretching her imagination, and his kindness beneath the grumpy exterior was warming her more each day. But it was far too soon to start spurting all of that. So she settled on: ‘It’s cute.’
Did he seem the tiniest bit disappointed withcute? If he did, he quickly reset himself.
Zain used the oars to row them further into the middle of the lake, his arms moving rhythmically, the water swishing gently in tune. Rosie let her fingers trail along its dark, glassy surface, the autumn coolness calming the unexpected date nerves that were starting to build. No one had ever done anything quite so special for her and she could barely get her head around what it meant.
‘Hope you like pumpkins.’ Zain’s random statement broke through her thoughts.
‘Pardon?’
‘Sorry, I’m getting this all backwards.’ He put the oars down inside the boat and blinked at her. ‘I was meant to say that tonight’s meal will whip you up into a whirlwind of pumpkin deliciousness. Get ready to sample the delights of pumpkin hummus with a light and fluffy pumpkin bread, followed by a baked pumpkin fondue, and finished off with a pumpkin and ginger cheesecake that will set your taste buds racing. And luckily, your friend Bonnie thrust her wine at me, because I didn’t have time to think about that.’
He began pulling supplies from the picnic basket and arranging everything on the makeshift table between them. ‘I thought your retreat people might enjoy getting into nature for some seasonal foraging too, with a little guidance.’ He smiled at her. ‘As long as they don’t kill themselves on a poisonous mushroom.’
‘Always better not to.’ Rosie chuckled. ‘This is incredible.’ She cast her eyes over the spread being laid out in front of her. ‘And you’ve actually cooked your own pumpkins? I thought there would be strict rules about that sort of behaviour.’
He shrugged. ‘There are rules about who gets their hands on my special ones. But I have a whole lot of pumpkins.’
Wow. He was changing.
‘Where did you get these tasty recipe ideas?’ she asked, willing her thoughts not to wander to where her hands dreamed of drifting to.
‘They’re all my own,’ he said quickly, not for the first time that day.
Rosie addedinspired menu choicesto his list of unexpected talents.
‘And the food’s nothing much. Just simple stuff.’ He motioned for her to try something.
As she sank her teeth into the soft, sweet pumpkin bread with its delicate nutty flavours, she thought her taste buds would dance straight to heaven. ‘Where did you learn to cook like this?’
‘It’s just basic. I grew up looking out for myself.’ His quietening voice was almost swallowed by the night. ‘But my complex life is another story.’
‘I’d like to hear it,’ Rosie said softly.
‘But it’s not part of... tonight.’
‘We’re not sticking to a script. Are we?’
‘No, of course not.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I grew up in care. I was bounced around from foster home to foster home and although the people were nice enough, I rarely felt...wanted. You know? More like I was an inconvenient spare part. My mother was an addict of anything and everything. She was born and lived in the south-west of England – but never anywhere stable. I never properly knew my dad. He was from Montana in the US, from a long line of pumpkin farmers. His family and my ancestors were good, honest people. But I came to learn that he’s nothing like them.’ He shook his head. ‘Not that I know much about him.’
‘And you? Did you manage to settle anywhere?’
He looked at her as if he was weighing things up. Like he’d already said more than planned. ‘There was one family I nearly stuck with. They were kind. Dennis taught me to care for the land, to sow seeds and watch them grow. To listen for the call of the birds.’ His voice faltered. ‘But I messed it up. Like I always do. I break things before...’
‘They have chance to break you?’ Rosie completed Zain’s sentence when it seemed he’d lost the courage to finish it.
‘Yes, that. Stupid hey?’
‘Not at all.’ Rosie wished she could clamber over the boat and hug him. Maybe a date on the water wasn’t that convenient when you didn’t like falling in. ‘Some of my relationships have been interesting. You’re not alone.’ She wasn’t going to confess they’d all ended in full-scale disaster, or that her favourite one so far was her fictional version, with a hot hero called Cain who was very much inspired by him.
‘Look, I’m sorry if I was quick to judge you as just another townie, and if I spent too long fighting against your retreat plans. Maybe life has conditioned me to be wary and expect the worst. But you. You’ve shown me that people can be genuinely good. And not just because they want to use you.’
Did she see that flicker of pain across his face again? It disappeared quickly but left her wondering what else had happened in his past, and perhaps feeling a touch guilty about the Cain-Zain thing, even if she didn’t class it asusinghim, exactly.
‘Anyway, forget my history. I just wanted you to know that now I’ve looked into it, I guess having people here on retreats could have its positives. A chance to encourage folk to care for the land. I could even consider showing them the ropes of pumpkin farming and make it more hands on. It’s worked in other places.’
