she grabbed a handful of husk and silk and tore it away, exposing half the ear.
Moose squinted and tilted his head, screwing up his face as he stared at the ear of corn.
“Look at it!” she yelled at him. “It all looks like this!”
“What is that?” he asked.
The corn was mostly blue, but it was speckled with kernels that were a sickly gray color.
“Well, that’s a damn good question,” she said through gritted teeth.
“I … I…”
“I know,” she said. “You, you … You were supposed to take care of that plot. You said you knew heirloom corn, and I trusted you.” As quickly as it had erupted, her anger faded and her lip started to quiver. “I needed this client.”
She teetered for a second, like she was going to fall over, then she seemed to collapse inward instead. Moose got up and went to her, but she swatted him away, still too annoyed to take comfort from him.
That left me.
I didn’t want her to think I was taking advantage, but she was crying now, and she seemed like she needed a shoulder to do it on. I took a step closer and put my arm lightly around her, resting my hand on her upper arm.
She swayed into me. I could feel her warmth, and the slightness of her small frame. Even slack, though, her muscles felt strong and supple.
Her body shook once, a single deep, silent sob. She put her head against my chest and turned me toward the house. I felt like I was driving but she was steering.
Moose looked at me wide-eyed, shaking his head, his hands upraised, protesting his innocence as we walked past him. I shook my head back at him. Now was not the time to argue the point.
Nola’s effect on me had been strong since the first time I laid eyes on her, but as I walked her inside and we sat on the sofa, the effect was even stronger. Part of me wanted to make a move. Several parts, actually. But instead, I sat upright so she could lean against me. I smoothed her hair away from her face, and I waited until she was okay.
After ten minutes, she stiffened slightly and the pressure of her leaning against me lessened perceptibly. My back was cramping, but I didn’t want her to move any farther away, so I stayed where I was.
“Sorry,” she said in a whisper.
“It’s okay,” I whispered back.
I felt her head move against me, and when I looked down, she was looking up at me, her cheeks and the tip of her nose a soft pink. Even rimmed with red, her eyes were clear and strong.
The desire to kiss her was almost overwhelming, but she smiled self-consciously and gave me a pat on the cheek, then moved a few inches away. The air felt cold where her body was no longer touching mine.
* * *
“I put everything I had into this business,” she said, watching as I pulled a box of teabags out of the cabinet. The coffee was still out in the car. She had a crumpled tissue in her hand, occasionally dabbing her eyes, but she had regained her composure. “I just need to get to year three, get my organic cert, then I’ll be okay. It’s taken a while to get the crops growing right, get the business plan ironed out, get some steady customers. The restaurants are a good market, but this specialty catering thing—the high-end weddings and stuff—that’s what was going to keep me going until I got the certification. It’s all word of mouth, and a couple of jobs can make you or break you.”
The kettle started clearing its throat. Before it could start to sing, I turned off the burner and poured water into the two cups.
“It’s not just that I like working with the soil, out in the fresh air. There aren’t many jobs out there where you don’t have to worry about being exposed to some chemical or another. So far I’ve been lucky, my MCS isn’t real bad, and maybe I’m overly cautious, but I don’t want to push it and make it worse. I don’t want to end up being the crazy lady in the cubicle at the end who’s always asking people not to wear scented deodorant. This is a job where I know
Moose squinted and tilted his head, screwing up his face as he stared at the ear of corn.
“Look at it!” she yelled at him. “It all looks like this!”
“What is that?” he asked.
The corn was mostly blue, but it was speckled with kernels that were a sickly gray color.
“Well, that’s a damn good question,” she said through gritted teeth.
“I … I…”
“I know,” she said. “You, you … You were supposed to take care of that plot. You said you knew heirloom corn, and I trusted you.” As quickly as it had erupted, her anger faded and her lip started to quiver. “I needed this client.”
She teetered for a second, like she was going to fall over, then she seemed to collapse inward instead. Moose got up and went to her, but she swatted him away, still too annoyed to take comfort from him.
That left me.
I didn’t want her to think I was taking advantage, but she was crying now, and she seemed like she needed a shoulder to do it on. I took a step closer and put my arm lightly around her, resting my hand on her upper arm.
She swayed into me. I could feel her warmth, and the slightness of her small frame. Even slack, though, her muscles felt strong and supple.
Her body shook once, a single deep, silent sob. She put her head against my chest and turned me toward the house. I felt like I was driving but she was steering.
Moose looked at me wide-eyed, shaking his head, his hands upraised, protesting his innocence as we walked past him. I shook my head back at him. Now was not the time to argue the point.
Nola’s effect on me had been strong since the first time I laid eyes on her, but as I walked her inside and we sat on the sofa, the effect was even stronger. Part of me wanted to make a move. Several parts, actually. But instead, I sat upright so she could lean against me. I smoothed her hair away from her face, and I waited until she was okay.
After ten minutes, she stiffened slightly and the pressure of her leaning against me lessened perceptibly. My back was cramping, but I didn’t want her to move any farther away, so I stayed where I was.
“Sorry,” she said in a whisper.
“It’s okay,” I whispered back.
I felt her head move against me, and when I looked down, she was looking up at me, her cheeks and the tip of her nose a soft pink. Even rimmed with red, her eyes were clear and strong.
The desire to kiss her was almost overwhelming, but she smiled self-consciously and gave me a pat on the cheek, then moved a few inches away. The air felt cold where her body was no longer touching mine.
* * *
“I put everything I had into this business,” she said, watching as I pulled a box of teabags out of the cabinet. The coffee was still out in the car. She had a crumpled tissue in her hand, occasionally dabbing her eyes, but she had regained her composure. “I just need to get to year three, get my organic cert, then I’ll be okay. It’s taken a while to get the crops growing right, get the business plan ironed out, get some steady customers. The restaurants are a good market, but this specialty catering thing—the high-end weddings and stuff—that’s what was going to keep me going until I got the certification. It’s all word of mouth, and a couple of jobs can make you or break you.”
The kettle started clearing its throat. Before it could start to sing, I turned off the burner and poured water into the two cups.
“It’s not just that I like working with the soil, out in the fresh air. There aren’t many jobs out there where you don’t have to worry about being exposed to some chemical or another. So far I’ve been lucky, my MCS isn’t real bad, and maybe I’m overly cautious, but I don’t want to push it and make it worse. I don’t want to end up being the crazy lady in the cubicle at the end who’s always asking people not to wear scented deodorant. This is a job where I know
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