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)
Leaving downtown Burlington behind, traffic thinned out as we headed south. New scenery, same Mom argument. “You of all people know that not everyone needs a relationship.”
“Not everyone does, but you do,” she said archly.
She’d been open about being bisexual since my teens, and was out long before I was, but it was only in the last few years that she’d embraced her asexual identity as well. We’d had multiple discussions about whether her string of failed relationships after my father died meant she was aromantic as well, but she’d declared multiple times that she much preferred cultivating close friendships to romantic partnerships. Why she wouldn’t give me the same freedom to declare myself over relationships baffled me. Mothers.
“I would be a terrible bet as a boyfriend, and you know it. I couldn’t do that to someone.”
“You sell yourself short, Harrison.” Her unwavering loyalty was one of her best qualities. And it had a lot to do with why I was going along with this plan, why I’d decided to establish V and V both with and for her. “And you need to stop living like you’re a bomb with a countdown timer.”
“Maybe I am.” The funk that had only worsened since my birthday made my voice morose. Outside the car, the terrain shifted, business areas becoming farmland.
“Darling, you know that sort of thinking isn’t healthy. It’s—”
“Did you put the farm address in your phone GPS?” I knew a turn was likely coming up, but I’d forgotten to tell her to connect her phone to the stereo.
“Fine, fine. I’ll be your navigator.” Her tone was resigned but stubborn. I hadn’t heard the last on this topic.
“All these roads look similar,” I complained a little while later after some missed turns. Rural roads had minimal signage, making following directions harder.
“There it is.” Mom pointed up ahead to a jaunty wooden sign at the end of a gravel drive announcing Puddlebrook Family Farm. It was a weathered red and blue with hand-painted ducks and chickens along the bottom. “Oh, and look how pretty!”
She was enthusiastic even before the collection of buildings came into view. Gentle rolling hills and open pastures surrounded by wooded areas did make for a pleasant drive up to the farm stand where Finn had agreed to meet us. A red and white barn that looked right out of a wholesome cereal ad had a farm stand sign in front of it with more hand-painted creatures directing people where to park. Farther back, a large, white farmhouse peeked out behind some other buildings. Finn strode out of the farm stand barn before I finished parking. He looked as iconic as the barn—red plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, partially covered by canvas coveralls that ended in heavy boots.
“Audrey.” He greeted my mother like an old friend with a hug and smile before turning to me. “Fletcher—”
“Harrison.” If he was going to be all cozy with Mom, there was no reason for me to be all pretentious. And if I was jealous of the warm greeting he’d had for her, well, that was likely best kept to myself, a longing I’d do well to stomp down.
“Harrison. Did you find the place okay?”
“Yes.” No way was I admitting to any navigation difficulties. I looked around the collection of buildings as Mom wandered toward the farm stand. “It’s bigger than I would have thought.”
“That’s what he said.” Eyes sparkling, Finn laughed, but quickly sobered when I didn’t join in. I should have, but I was often a little too slow when it came to casual humor. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right. I don’t mean to be a stick in the mud.” My mouth twisted because I wanted to be free and easy like him, full of smiles and jokes. I simply wasn’t wired that way, and not for the first time, I wished I were.
“Well, you’ll end up stuck in actual mud in those shoes.” Finn pointed at my loafers, a pair with handstitched details I particularly enjoyed. And yes, they were already a little dusty simply from our slow walk across the uneven parking area, but I’d never admit to having made a wardrobe mistake.
“What’s wrong with my shoes?”
“I told him.” Mom shook her head as we joined her under the barn’s awning. A white porch swing hung from the rafters.
“I bet.” Finn joined her in laughing before ducking inside the open double doors. He returned with two pairs of big rubber boots. “It’s no problem. We keep a variety of boots for guests and interns.”
I took some solace in the fact that Mom’s clogs had also been deemed unworthy, but the boots were stiff and unwieldy. They smelled like a farm and went up my calf in a way that made each step plodding.
“Now, I bet you’re dying to see the animals, so we’ll start in the barn with the most baby animals. Most adult animals, like the cows, sheep, and adult chickens, are out in their pastures, especially during the day.” Finn made his way to a larger, more modern barn. I loved how he moved, sure and confident, with natural authority but no trace of arrogance. His enthusiasm was infectious. “And a litter of piglets just arrived.”