Page 8 of Till The Cows Come Home
Jessie moved slightly, and on a small pedestal sat a perfectly plump Cherokee Purple heirloom tomato, adorned with a blue first place ribbon.
“I knewthat was the one!”
“I know you did! I was nervous, because you know the State Fair judges are harsher than the locals, but I trusted my gut and Trichton Farm finally earned a ribbon.”
“It's well deserved, kiddo. I don’t know any other ten year olds who can grow a tomato quite like you.”
Behind the newly crowned winner stood her father, and his expression conveyed a thousand unspoken words. I shot him a smile of understanding as we both listened to the competition recap, a story he had probably heard a hundred times by now, yet listened to intently, beaming with pride as if he was hearing it the first time.
“Well, tomato princess,” I said as she wrapped up her story.
“Queen,” she corrected.
“Queen,” I chuckled. “What’s the chance I could get four of your award winning tomatoes, two bunches of lettuce, and two onions.”
“More than usual.” She hummed. “What do you have for me?”
“Today’s choices are milk and mozzarella.”
“Two milk bottles and two balls of mozzarella, and you have a deal.”
I looked past her to her father for confirmation, who silently nodded in agreement to his daughter's offer.
“Deal,” I responded, shaking the tiny outstretched hand.
“Pleasure doing business. See you next Saturday?”
“You know I’d never pass up a chance to see royalty,” I said, bowing deeply.
Giggles erupted as I turned away, but my attention was quickly redirected, instead focusing on the cars beginning to filter into the surrounding parking lots. I didn’t regret a moment spent with the Trichtons, but due to my time spent socializing I was now in a race against the clock. With an estimated five minutes of freedom left, I rushed throughthe rest of the loop, apologizing for the brief visits as I picked out the rest of Sage and I’s groceries, and by the time I returned to my booth, I was embarrassingly out of breath from my mad-dash shopping. But like clockwork, customers began to arrive, and as they leisurely wandered in, I set aside some cheese and milk from the farm, hoping my last minute personal touch wouldn’t slight her.
The market was slammed.
It was perfectly warm, but not hot, and the live music echoed throughout the loop, creating an ambiance like no other. When word spread of a good time, the town flocked, and I was positive almost all of Lox was in attendance. While I hadn’t sold out, I was as close as I’d ever been, and my chest was full with gratitude. Sometimes the hustle and bustle took over, blinding me from the things around me, but when I slowed to take it all in, the view was amazing. Support swirled, community established, and joy rang out, all in front of my eyes. I scanned the crowd, smiling in appreciation at all the friends I’d made along the way, but I stopped dead in my tracks as my view settled on Beth, or more importantly who was in front of her.
Sage Baker.
I could feel my heart rate quicken as I looked around, carefully considering my options now that my plan was clearly foiled. It was just about time to pack up, and my brain urged me to take all the things I gathered and bring them home, alleviating us both from the potential awkwardness of the second choice, which would be to attempt to give them to Sage in hopes she’d restrain from throwing them back in my face. As I nervously debated, Beth made eye contact with me across the square. Her eyes darted from Sage back to me as if saying, “let’s go buddy,” clearly favoring the latter of my choices. Facing either woman terrified me, yet I found myself picking up the bags I’d gathered and walking directly towards my apprehension.
Too engrossed in her conversation with Beth, Sage didn’t notice me standing awkwardly behind her, and I cleared my throat, attempting to make myself known. I couldn’t help but chuckle as Beth’s eyes darted between us, as ifshehad any reason to be nervous. Sage rapidly pivoted in response to Beth's gaze, nearly knocking me over, and once she settled on her feet, she stared up at me with wide blue eyes.
“Good morning, Miss Baker.”
My greeting was an attempt to make this introduction less confrontational than the last, but I couldn’t help but smirk at Sage’s mortification. She clearly didn’t expect it to be me standing behind her. After mere moments her expression had smoothed, and I tried not to squirm as she looked me up and down, scouring my face with a scrutiny I couldn’t quite place. When she still didn’t say anything, I held up the bags.
“I got you these.”
Instead of happiness, or even neutrality, her brows furrowed, and I couldn’t quite tell if it was confusion or anger fueling the response.
“Why?” was the first thing that finally escaped her lips.
“I felt bad making you feel uncomfortable, and I was going to give them to Beth, but you showed up. Think of it as a peace treaty.”
She spun around, glaring at Beth. “You’re a traitor.”
“Do you want your bread or not, baby girl?” Beth threatened, which prompted Sage to face me again.
“Thank you…”
