Page 7 of Wassailing We Will Go
The young man gave it to me, the fancy one who—
What is this regarding? I cut her off, as I doubt that sentence was going anywhere good. I make a mental note to ask Daniel what on earth he was thinking, giving her an additional number to call and complain to.
You know my goat farm, it’s delicate—if you upset them, they don’t make as much milk, and I have told you this many times, and now there’s ambulances and police and all kinds of carrying on. I heard old Charlie broke a leg?
Old Charlie is a rich comment from her, given that she’s only a few years younger. Linda, Charlie is fine. He’s been treated and is recovering nicely. Accidents happen, and the specifics are not something I am willing to discuss. Is there anything else I can help you with?
I just think you should be more careful, is all, she says, and it’s hard not to pick up the trace of malice in her croaky voice. Or there will be a lot more accidents where that one came from. With that, she hangs up.
Well, thanks for that, Linda. Rather than focus on my neighbour’s vaguely sinister threats, I put on my coat and head out to try and find my new cider maker.
CHAPTER FIVE
IT’S A CHILLY DAY, AND my breath is visible as I go back out onto the path that leads to the fermentation room. The door is propped open to let some fresh air in, and I can hear laughter coming from inside well before I get to the entrance.
I peek in, trying to get a sense for how things are going before I interrupt whatever’s happening in there. I see that Charlie has acquired one of those little scooter-rollie things, and his leg is propped up on it. He’s a lot more mobile than I imagined he would be, which is a big relief.
Harrison is up on a ladder, measuring something in one of the vats, and gives a thumbs-up to Charlie, who nods and writes something down. Apparently, their friendship has already transcended words. I step in and cough, announcing my presence.
How’s it going in here? I ask. Sorry I’m late. Daniel caught me on the way in, and I had to handle a few minor issues.
I heard that Linda’s causing trouble again, growls Charlie, shaking his head. The old bat can’t leave well enough alone. She called Gwen last night, too, asking her what all the commotion was for.
Harrison climbs back down the ladder, and I realize that, thus far, I have only seen two modes of Harrison attire: practically naked or wearing the coat equivalent of a sleeping bag. Today, he’s wearing jeans and a fitted henley shirt, and seeing him in normal people clothes catches me off guard. I am not sure what I expected—terry cloth bathrobes are not the usual attire for cideries, nor are parkas. Still, I find that I like fitted-shirt Harrison maybe even more than hot-tub Harrison, and then I remind myself that he’s here for a job. As an employee who would work for me.
Sorry, who is Linda? asks Harrison as he cleans his hands on a nearby shop towel.
An old bat, repeats Charlie.
A neighbour, I say. “An elderly one with a little too much time on her hands. So…how’s it going in here? I ask. I look from Charlie to Harrison, who smile at each other, and it looks for all the world like they’re about to announce their engagement.
Don’t know where you found this lad, girlie, but he can stay as far as I’m concerned, he says, giving Harrison a slap on the back. Knows his stuff. Bad taste in hockey, though, but don’t know what we can do about that.
The Vancouver Canucks are all I’ve ever known! he protests. I imprinted on them like a baby duckling when I first came here. I had no choice. I’m loyal now, he says.
Least it’s not the damned Habs, says Charlie. That I would not abide, no matter how good you are, son. Anyway, I like a loyal fan, even if it is the wrong team.
How’s the fermentation going? I interject, as Charlie could go on his hockey tangent for hours if left uninterrupted.
Beautifully, chimes Harrison. He is grinning from ear to ear. Reckon it’ll be ready to rack in a day or two.
Lad had a great idea about that, actually, said Charlie. Said we should bring back a couple of barrels like we did in the olden days, nice ones, call it the ‘cider maker’s batch.’ Something a little special just for the tasting bar for Christmas, and get us back to our roots a little, too. Charlie is always excited about cider, but I can tell he really cares about this.
I raise my eyebrows in Harrison’s direction, who looks sheepish but maintains his wide grin.
It separates the commercial from the artisan, he said. There’s a place for both, of course, but it shows a certain…dedication, I think, when people visit.
I shrug. You guys are the cider makers. I like the idea. Get me a quote for the barrels you want, and I’ll look into it. I look over to Harrison and motion to the door. A word? He claps Charlie on the shoulder and follows me, grabbing his Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man jacket on the way out.
I nod my head in the direction of the fermentation building. So, was all of that advice for free, or do you think you’d like to start getting paid for it? I ask. We start walking back toward the main building, and the sun has finally come out. It brightens up the place considerably, the red barn shining in the sunlight, beckoning.
Harrison smiles. Honestly, as soon as I drove in and had a proper look around, I was pretty sure I wanted to work here, at least for a bit, and then I met Charlie. He’s an absolute treasure.
I laugh. Don’t tell him that.
So, do you want my CV? It’s in the office. Ryan and Britt don’t have a printer, so I printed it at the library this morning. They’re really nice over there—a woman named Helen helped me, and now I’m invited to her granddaughter’s Christmas recital next week, if you’d like to join me. Apparently, they’re singing the song from Frozen, and Sophie has been practicing her solo for weeks.
You are…very chatty today, I say. He’s talking a mile a minute through all of it, and his accent is just enough that I have to really focus when he’s talking this fast. Also, I have not had a single cup of coffee yet today, whereas Harrison’s whole vibe is that of a person who has had maybe seventeen of them.
