Page 6 of Harvest Season in Kentbury
Genie beams, clearly proud of her handiwork.“She was so pleased with it, dear.Said it was going to look perfect on you—and it does.”
“Thank you.”I nod, trying to suppress a sigh.
Perfect, I think, casting a glance at the garish sweater.Still, as outlandish as the neon fall colors are, it feels like a warm hug, a reminder of Grandma’s love, no matter how questionable her taste in colors might be.
Since I’m already here, I decide it’s a good time to share the news about Jane helping with the Pumpkin Festival.“So, Jane offered to co-chair the festival with me this year.”
Genie’s expression shifts.She narrows her gaze slightly, glancing between me and Raffa before her lips press into a firm line.“I have other plans for the festival,” she says, her voice leaving no room for argument.“If Jane wants to volunteer, she’s more than welcome, but she won’t be co-chairing with you.”
I stand there, unsure of what to say.When Genie makes up her mind, changing it is as likely as stopping a train with your bare hands.“If you’re sure,” I manage, trying not to let my surprise show, what is this lady planning?
“Definitely.But you should come by my house tomorrow so we can make a few plans,” she adds, her tone softening again, though the decision is final.
I nod, feeling a little deflated but knowing better than to push the subject.Genie offers me a warm smile, then adds, “We’ll sort everything out tomorrow.”
“I’ll see you soon,” I say, turning to leave the bakery.
Just before I step outside, Raffa’s voice reaches me.“It was a pleasure meeting you,” he says, his deep voice softer now, less guarded.When I glance back, I catch something sincere in his expression that wasn’t there before.“I’ll see you around.”
I smile, a little surprised by the warmth in his tone.“You too,” I reply, unsure why my pulse has quickened slightly.As I walk away, I can’t help but wonder when our paths might cross again, and why I’m already looking forward to it.
“Grandma?I’m here, and I brought you a treat,” I call out as I step into her house, the familiar scent of lavender wrapping around me like a comforting hug.
Her house feels like a cozy, stylish getaway.Grandma strolls out of the kitchen, towel in hand, her silver hair effortlessly swept back like she just walked off a movie set.She’s pulling off her usual laid-back glam—probably in a cashmere sweater and jeans that look made for her.But it’s the sparkle in her eyes, that hint of excitement, that makes her seem way younger than her years.
“My favorite granddaughter is here,” she exclaims with a teasing grin.“And what have you brought me today, dear?”
I hold up the small box of cookies from the bakery.“Your favorite,” I say, setting it down on the counter.
Her eyes narrow slightly, and she steps back, eyeing the sweater critically.“Good grief, child, that thing is hideous.Why didn’t you tell me it turned out so badly?”she asks, her voice laced with playful indignation.“Oh, I need to stop drinking so much wine while knitting.There ought to be a law against it.”
I laugh, feeling the lightness of the moment.“What are you talking about?It’s a nice sweater.”
She waves a hand dramatically.“Of course not.I thought it looked fabulous—after a few glasses of Pinot, everything looks better.Why on earth are you wearing it?”
I grin, shrugging.“Well ...it’s colorful.”
“Colorful is one way to put it,” she huffs, casting a disapproving glance at the sweater like it’s a personal affront.“We’ll have to try again next time.Maybe with less wine and more common sense.”
I chuckle, feeling the tension of the day slip away as I watch her fuss over the sweater, her familiar presence grounding me like always.
“Did you hear that another one of Genie’s grandchildren came to town?”she asks, her tone shifting slightly, like she’s testing the waters of some small-town gossip.
I nod.“Yeah, she introduced me to him today.”
“If only her ungrateful son would visit her more often,” Grandma mutters under her breath.“This is the grandson who had a heart attack, I believe?”
I shrug.“I don’t know.Maybe.”
Grandma narrows her eyes at me.“Are you going to be in charge of the Pumpkin Festival this year?”
I nod, offering a small smile.
“Hmm,” she muses, shaking her head slightly.“Genie has a way of wrapping people around her finger and getting them to do things they wouldn’t normally do.You know you don’t have to help with everything, right?Especially with all you’ve got going on.”
“I don’t mind helping,” I reply, a hint of a grin tugging at my lips.“Besides, I might be able to negotiate a little help with the gallery when I need it,” I add with a wink.
She chuckles, her eyes twinkling with approval.“Smart girl.”
