Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Chapter Eighteen
Finn
I loved the Fourth of July picnic at the farm. Not only was it a big moneymaker for us, but it was fun, the crowds and food and music. And so much of my history was tied up in the event too, memories that lingered like benevolent ghosts as I strode across the fields after parking the tractor, having finished the last wagon ride of taking young families down to their cars. There by the stage, I could see my late grandmother in a folding chair, tapping her foot to the music. Over by the tractors, I could see Dad back in his prime, holding court with the fathers and their curious kids. By the ice cream tent lurked the memory of Grandpa patiently fielding questions and asking what flavor we wanted.
And this year, my present was as sweet as the past. More of the nieces and nephews were big enough to help now, all of the interns had shown up, and Audrey and Harrison were welcome additions. Watching Audrey with the kids was fun, and I liked how she involved my mom, striking a balance between helpful and letting Mom have her hard-won independence, something that even I struggled with sometimes.
Harrison was also way more of a help than I’d expected. All day, he’d been exactly where I needed him, no questions asked. He’d churned ice cream, cleaned up trash, carried food, and moved chairs with no complaints. Astin would never have been so involved in a farm activity, let alone so helpful. Yet again, Harrison was proving he was more than his polished, rich-guy exterior.
I took a seat on a bench near the farm stand, taking a moment to catch my breath after the nonstop excitement of the day. The crowd had thinned, and the light shifted from afternoon into evening.
“You need to eat.” Harrison approached, a loaded plate in his hand.
“You brought me food?” I blinked. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had fussed over me. I was usually the one making sure Mom and my sisters took breaks, so someone arriving with food for me was something of a novelty.
“Well, yes.” Harrison handed over the plate as he took a seat on the bench beside me. “That potato salad isn’t going to eat itself.”
“Thanks.” Not only had he brought me food, but he’d chosen things I enjoyed—two big pieces of fried chicken, potato salad, a buttery ear of corn, and one of my sister’s famous biscuits with local honey.
“No problem. It’s been a great day.” He smiled at me as he bumped my shoulder with his. “I even tried a bit of the ice cream with some of the strawberries.”
“Look at you living.” Tired as I was, I grinned right back at him as I dug into my food.
“I’m trying.” His tone turned more serious.
“I know.” I patted his thigh with the hand that wasn’t holding my plate. And he was trying, had been for weeks now, taking my suggestions when we ate out, savoring new things, and seeming more in the moment and less morose. “I like seeing you have fun. It’s probably not the same as the big Fourth celebrations in New York—”
“It’s so much better.” Leaning forward with that intent expression of his, Harrison interrupted me. “The crowds are overwhelming, and most years, I ended up watching the fireworks on TV rather than trying to navigate the chaos. This is more personal.”
“Yeah.” I had to swallow hard. Harrison getting what we were trying to do here, that mattered. Him helping was great, but appreciating? That was everything.
“Thank you for letting us come,” he continued, sounding genuinely grateful. “Growing up as an only child without many nearby family members, I always envied big families. I know Mom appreciated getting to borrow yours for a while.”
“Anytime.” I wanted to tell him about the hayrides in the fall and our big Thanksgiving and the whirlwind of the winter holidays and skating on the pond, but I held back. Not because I didn’t think he’d be interested, but because I wanted it so damn much. There was a potential future where he actually stuck it out in Vermont, where he was here to help and share in all those things, and the wanting of it was enough to steal my breath and my words.
“What else can I help with? It seems to be slowing down.” He gestured at all the families packing up and heading to their cars.
“Yeah, it usually gets quieter after dinner.” I paused to eat more of the dinner he’d brought me. “A lot of the people will go to the nearby towns for fireworks. Then it’s just cleanup and the usual nightly chores.”
“I can help clean up.” Harrison’s tone was very earnest and sincere, but my back still tightened.
“You don’t need to—”