Page 30 of Butter You Up
“Please.”
Latonya picks up the menus. “You got it, sugar. And tell that lovely young lady of yours that I got new gluten-free buns this week and that we’re putting a new salad on the menu. She can have it with the feta cheese on the side.”
“Thanks, will do.”
I take a minute to scan the diner. It’s the only place to eat lunch in Fork Lick, and the food is way better than Tiddy’s—no offense to Tiddy. I recognize a few faces and exchange a few head nods.
When I look back at Ethan, he’s watching me.
Whatever he’s thinking has to wait while Latonya delivers coffee and cream. But as soon as she disappears, Ethan leans forward.
“I could use some advice.”
“From me?” The words fly out of my mouth.
“Yeah, from you. You know a lot about farming and the market for fresh products. Your dairy farm is amazing, and so’s the milk, by the way. It’s definitely a fan favorite over the weekends.”
“I can tell,” I say wryly, thinking of Molly’s bet. I’ve been trying not to think about Molly too much since that kiss, but twice yesterday, Kit snapped his fingers in front of my face when he didn’t think I was paying attention.
He also told me my eyebrows were giving me away again. I don’t know exactly what they were saying, but he just grinned at me.
“So, what advice do you want from me?”
“Well, it was Lia’s idea to apply for the grant, but switching from soybean to more diversified crops was something you and Samuel campaigned for ages ago.”
“Yeah, well, Grandad didn’t listen.”
“And look where we are now,” Ethan says, his voice growing sharper. “Grandad should have listened to you—Ishould have listened to you instead of thinking he knew best. I don’t envy Grandad’s life; raising us kids in his sixties and farming is a hard business. But we can’t make the same mistakes going forward. We’ve got…well, we’ve got our futures to think about.”
There’s a crease of worry between my brother’s eyes, but there’s also hope in his words. It smacks me over the head real hard whatour futuresmeans. “Kids, you mean? Your kids?”
Ethan shrugs. “Someday. But also, Gran needs to stop working so hard, and we can’t do that until the debt gets paid off. So, I was wondering how we can collaborate, if there’s anything we can do together that would be good for both our farms.”
I stare at Ethan. Sure, I have plans for Udderly Creamy, but never in my wildest dreams did I consider my brother might want to work together.
Therefore, nothing comes immediately to mind for a partnership. Nothing except…
“We need more space,” I say.
“Who does? Where? For what?”
I shake my head to straighten my thoughts. “In general, at Udderly. A lot of farms do community outreach programs and farm tours, but we don’t have a parking lot to accommodate that kind of thing. Plus, you need public bathrooms, literature, and safety equipment. There’s extra liability, too.”
Ethan rubs his chin. “How can we help with that?”
“Well…I’m not sure yet.”
Ethan and I poke and prod at a few ideas, but nothing really solidifies.
“Let me talk to my team,” I say.
He grins. “Right, you have a team. I have family, and you have a team.” Ethan winces as soon as the words are out of his mouth. “I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry. I meant that Bedd Fellows never had farm hands, and I’ve been leaning on the family to help. You’ve got a crew that helps you.”
“I know what you meant,” I mumble. It still stings, though, this proof from the horse’s mouth that I’m on the outside looking in.
Our food comes, interrupting the awkwardness, and Ethan switches the topic. “I guess your crew includes Molly.”
“Yes.” I tuck into the hash browns first while they’re hot and crispy.
