Chapter Nineteen
Monday morning, the beginning of their fourth week of work, Beth sat in her car in the parking lot of Willow Grove Community Bank, replaying the meeting she’d just had with Linda Dorset, the loan officer she’d been working with for years.
A loan officer who knew her personally as well as professionally—Whitaker Mowers did a lot of business with the bank. Why, then, had Linda chosen now as the time to get stingy?
While a loan was just about the last thing in the world Beth wanted, she’d owed it to herself to at least explore the possibility—only she’d discovered it wasn’t one at all.
Drew had been working at the farm for two full weeks, and he’d done just about everything he could on his own. They’d had a steady stream of volunteers, but he’d politely asked for skilled help. She’d agreed, and as with everything else he did, Drew wasted no time assembling a crew of possible workers, many of whom she knew.
But she had no idea how she would pay them. And no idea how to break it to Molly that while Jerry had given her a loan, Beth couldn’t get another one for the same project. “Too risky,” Linda had said. “We just don’t see it as a good investment.”
Beth’s heart had plummeted as Linda spoke her greatest fears aloud.
To make everything worse, Beth seemed to have been bitten by the frivolous-dreamer bug. (Too much time spent with Molly, perhaps?) Instead of coming up with easier and quicker ways to raise money, she’d become obsessed with the idea of bringing back the Fairwind Market.
She drove to the farm and knocked on the kitchen door, the same way she had every day since Drew had moved in, but when she pushed it open, she found him standing at the refrigerator wearing nothing but a pair of jeans frayed at the bottom.
“Morning.” He pulled a carton of orange juice out and shut the door.
She tried not to notice that his hair was still damp and he smelled clean, like soap. Nothing fussy about this man. He hadn’t even shaved. Probably in a couple of days.
It suited him.
“Morning.” She handed him the coffee. It had become a ritual.
“You know you don’t have to bring me coffee every day.” He set it on the counter. “But thanks.” He picked up a soft gray T-shirt that was draped over one of the kitchen chairs and pulled it over his head, covering his muscular torso and tanned skin.
She was relieved—seeing him shirtless was incredibly distracting.
She set her slouch bag down on one of the kitchen chairs and found her idea notebook lying open on the table. Somehow in the last two weeks, her portfolio had been replaced by an old sketch pad. Somehow in the last two weeks, her usual thoughts had been replaced by daydreams. She’d tried to deny it, but her mother wouldn’t let her.
“I never thought I’d live to see the day when you were researching how to build a chicken coop,” she’d said, reading Beth’s computer screen over her shoulder.
“I don’t seem like a chicken kind of person?”
Her mom had laughed and made her way to an armchair on the other side of the living room. Beth half watched until she was settled, content that her mom didn’t need her, and went back to browsing about coops.
“It’s nice to see you passionate about something again,” her mom had said, as if it were just a simple observation.
“I’m not passionate about chicken coops, Mom.”
“That notebook begs to differ.”
Beth glanced down at the pad, full of plans and ideas. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but these days, instead of spending her evenings poring over market research, she was tearing photos out of Country Living magazine and stapling them into her sketch pad.
The notebook was more than a place to record facts and figures about their renovation—it was a place to dream about Fairwind. And she’d carelessly left it here over the weekend.
She’d mostly saved magazine cutouts and Pinterest links of things she eventually wanted to do at the farm. The picnic area she wanted to create underneath the old oak tree, with white lights dangling in the soft spring air. The quirky hand-painted wooden signs to direct their visitors around the property. The garden she dreamed of tending in the large open space behind the house.
A few of the articles she’d torn out were spread out across the table—“What to Plant and When.” “Raising Backyard Chickens.” “How to Build Raised Garden Beds.” She picked them up and tucked them back inside the book, wrapping the attached elastic around it to hold everything in place, feeling a bit exposed knowing that he’d likely leafed through her ideas.
Even admitting she wanted to learn about something so far out of her comfort zone was hard for her. All it did was take her further away from her life plan. And yet, she couldn’t help herself.
“I was looking for this notebook yesterday. It’s not like me to leave something like this behind. Sorry about the mess.”
“If you call a notebook with a stack of magazine articles in it a mess.” He leaned against the counter and took another drink.
“Well, it’s nice of you to let me work in here. I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness.”
He raised a brow. “You own the place, and I stay here for free. You can leave a notebook on the table.” He pushed himself away from the counter. “Hey, can I show you something?”
“Of course.” She followed him out the side door, across the patio and into the yard. It still amazed her that all this land was partly hers. Never in her wildest dreams had she ever expected to be part owner of a farm.
He led her out toward the huge old oak tree, the one practically begging to be strung with white lights. On the other side of it, next to the shed where they kept the mowers and other small lawn tools, he stopped.
She followed his gaze downward and saw three good-sized raised garden beds, filled with fresh soil. Raised beds that looked exactly like the ones in the article she’d saved.
“Eventually, I think we could clear this whole area for a garden. If you like it, I mean.” Drew waved a hand across a section of grass tucked behind the farmhouse and directly in the sun. “But I thought it might be good to start with these. Fewer weeds to deal with in a raised bed, but we’ll have to water them like crazy.”
Beth stared at the scene in front of her. “When did you have time to do this?”
“Yesterday.”
“Sunday.”
“Yesterday was Sunday.” He smirked at her.
“This was a lot of work. I read the article. I got overwhelmed about three sentences in.”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. His feet were still bare, his hair still damp. His eyes were bright blue in the morning sunshine. And he looked perfectly at ease. She knew he wasn’t—no one who worked this much could be—but in that moment, he almost looked peaceful.
“Are they okay?” He looked across the beds, as if double-checking his work. “I didn’t mean to snoop through your stuff—I just saw the article and thought they’d be great out here.”
He’d turned one of her wishes into a reality. But why?
She wasn’t sure anyone had ever done something so thoughtful for her. The realization of it hit her all at once, but she swallowed it and forced herself to smile. “You know there’s a really good chance I’m going to kill every plant we put in these.”
He smiled back—a real one—with his eyes. “I know. I’ll keep an eye on them.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said with a laugh.
“You’ll be fine. I’ve got more soil in the barn. We just need to decide what you want to plant, and we can get started.”
She waited until he met her gaze. “Thank you for this.”
He waved her off. “It was nothing.”
But it wasn’t nothing. It was the first indication she had that Drew might actually be paying attention to more than just his job. Why did her stomach somersault at the thought?
She chewed the inside of her lip, suddenly nervous. He probably expected her to have some idea of what she wanted to plant. She didn’t. Not yet, anyway.
Hadn’t she read something about what to plant in raised beds? “I was thinking maybe some tomatoes? And peppers?” She tried to keep the sound of not knowing what she was talking about out of her voice.
“That’d be a good start,” he said.
She gave a nod that was much more confident than she felt.
“And maybe some cucumbers and squash?” he said. “If there’s room, we could do green beans too.”
“Sure.”
“All right. I’ve got some seeds in the barn. I’ll go get what we need. I think there are some gardening tools and gloves in the house.”
“I’ll go get them.”
When she returned, he was standing beside the beds. He’d put his work boots on, along with a ball cap he pulled down low over his eyes, the sun growing warmer as the day wore on. “Have you planted anything before?”
Her grimace gave her away.
“I’ll take that as a no.” He motioned for her to join him at the edge of the soil. “We’re just going to create rows, like this.” Using his hands, he dug a little trench in the dirt, dropped the seeds in and then covered it back up. “Wanna try?”
As she leaned in to clear away a spot for more seeds, he didn’t move, forcing her to stretch across him to scoop the dirt out and to drop the seeds in. He reached down to help her, his hand brushing hers and sending a warm tingle down her spine.
She smoothed the dirt over the seeds and patted it down.
“Good. Once you’re done, you’ll want to water them all.” He stood, hands on hips and nodded. “You can do this. I’ll come back and check on you.”
She pulled on a pair of gardening gloves she’d found in the house, along with a floppy gardening hat. Sonya’s, most likely. Then she did exactly what Drew had shown her. She arranged her seeds in rows, not too close together, and covered them with the soil.
By the middle of the morning, the new crew had arrived. She watched as they met Drew in the main barn, where he gave them a rundown of their jobs. He’d hired them all last week after placing an ad in the Willow Grove Sentinel and putting up a sign at Butler’s advertising exactly what they needed: able-bodied, skilled workers.
As Beth watched them filter in, she resisted the urge to tell him the best way to motivate these men. The truth was, she didn’t know if her methods would work with such a different group of people. She found her confidence lacking as she went back to planting her seeds.
After a few minutes, the men were out in the yard, working. That was fast. She stood and did a quick glance around the farm, impressed that everyone seemed to know exactly where they were going and what they were doing. While up, she stretched her aching muscles, then took a moment to admire the whole first bed, completely planted.
“You taking a break?” Drew called out to her from several yards away.
“Just stretching,”
“You look proud of yourself.” He smiled at her. He had a nice smile.
“Well, proud of us. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“That doesn’t suit you, you know.”
“What doesn’t?”
“Doubting yourself.”
Hard to be sure of herself in such unknown territory. Before she could respond, an unfamiliar car—a silver Lexus—pulled into the parking lot.
Beth shielded her eyes from the sun.
“Expecting company?” Drew asked.
“No. You?”
The door of the Lexus opened, and the driver emerged. Beth’s heart sank. “Oh no.”
Dina Larson, with her long, wavy blond hair, got out of the car. She wore a pair of jeans, a cream-colored button-down shirt and a camel-colored suede jacket. Her heeled booties and checkered scarf made her look out of place at Fairwind Farm. She could’ve been a supermodel.
Beth wiped the sweat from her brow, spreading dirt across her forehead. She glanced down at her ripped jeans and old Cubs T-shirt. She was still wearing the floppy garden hat, and she looked—she was sure—like an absolute mess.
Dina waved as soon as she spotted them, then veered in their direction. She stumbled slightly as her heel sank into the grass.
“You know her?” Drew moved to Beth’s side.
“Unfortunately,” Beth said dryly.
That wasn’t quite fair. Dina Larson had been one of Beth’s friends—on the surface, anyway. They’d had so much in common and were in the same circle, and yet, there had always been a wide gap between them. That gap had only widened as they’d gone their separate ways.
Beth did her best to put herself back together, but she knew it was hopeless. She’d been working in the sun for hours, and under her hat, her sweaty hair had matted to her head in ways nothing but a shower could fix.
Dina stumbled again.
“She’s going to break her ankle wearing those shoes out here,” Drew said.
“Beth!” Dina called out with another overzealous wave. “Hey, stranger!”
“Dina, what are you doing here?” Beth tried to keep her tone light. Inside, her mind was reeling.
“I came to see you, of course.” Dina gave Drew a once-over. “Now I see why you’ve taken such a liking to farmwork.”
Beth glanced at Drew, who looked as uncomfortable as she felt.
“Drew, this is Dina Larson. We went to high school together,” Beth said, patting her warm face dry with a gloved hand.
“You make it sound so clinical, Beth. We weren’t just classmates—we were besties.” Dina flashed her perfectly white smile as she reached out to shake Drew’s hand.
Besties. Beth shuddered at the word. It sounded so juvenile. They were grown women, for Pete’s sake.
“We’re friends,” Beth said.
Drew shook Dina’s hand. “Good to meet you.” He turned to Beth. “I’ll let you guys catch up.”
As he walked away, Dina gave Beth wide eyes while mouthing O-M-G like a teenager.
“He works for me.” Beth stuck the trowel into the raised bed and clapped her hands together to remove the dirt from her gloves.
“Uh-huh. Send him my way when you’re done with him,” Dina said, watching Drew walk away. “Just kidding. I’m a married woman. But, good gracious, he is a fine-looking man.”
“Dina.”
She peeled her eyes away from Drew and turned to Beth, then burst out laughing. “You look so ridiculous right now.”
“Thanks for that.”
“Sorry.” She laughed. “It’s just quite the getup. Hold on, let me take a picture.” She took her phone out and snapped a photo so quickly Beth couldn’t have hoped to protest. “Nobody will believe you’re out here digging around in the dirt on your little farm.” She laughed again—loudly.
Beth pressed her lips together to keep from saying something she’d regret.
“So, how’s it been going out here? Seeing you like this, I’m starting to wonder just how brilliant this idea actually was. I mean, I was all for it—you know that—but I guess I didn’t realize how run-down this place had gotten.”
Beth didn’t dare tell her what it had looked like just a few weeks ago.
“It’s going well, actually. Slow, but we’re making progress.”
Dina’s smile looked forced. “Isn’t it funny?”
“Isn’t what funny?”
“How everything turned out. I’m living downtown with Harrison, running our own ad firm, and you’re . . . doing this. It’s exciting, right?”
Was it her intention to condescend?
Beth took off the gloves and laid them on the side of the garden. “Do you want some lemonade?”
Dina’s face brightened. “Sure.”
In the kitchen, she poured two glasses of lemonade and handed one to Dina, feeling uneasy about her being there at all. She was embarrassed for Dina to see the farm like this. To see her like this. Dina represented everything Beth had tried—failed—to achieve.
Beth shook that thought off. She shouldn’t blame Dina for making something of her life.
She sat down at the table across from Dina, a stunted silence hanging in the air between them. They’d competed all through high school, always under the guise of friends, even if not “besties.” But they hadn’t kept in touch—so why was Dina here now?
She searched for something to say. Came up empty.
“I heard you have big plans for this place,” Dina said. “And you want to be open by this fall. That’s quite an undertaking.”
Beth took a sip of her lemonade, noticing her hands were still dirty despite having washed them before she’d sat down. “We have a good team. A solid plan.”
It was partly true. They did have a good team. Beth was still working on the plan part.
“I’m sure. You only surround yourself with the best.” She smiled. Her words were complimentary, yet somehow Beth bristled at them, expecting criticism.
Dina took another drink. “The ad agency is doing really well.”
Beth should’ve asked. She didn’t have to, though, because Dina’s grandmother Ginny had already told her—ad nauseam—how well Dina’s business was doing. “That’s what I’ve heard. Congratulations. You’ve done everything you set out to do.” Her lack of enthusiasm resonated in her tone. Beth heard it loud and clear; she could only assume Dina had too.
This unspoken competition between them had always been there, simmering below the surface, pushing Beth forward in an effort to outdo, out achieve, out win. But now, it had turned into something even uglier.
Beth shrank under the weight of Dina’s stare.
“Will you be ready to open by August?” Dina turned the glass around in her hand.
Beth glanced out the window and saw Drew in the yard with a few of the workers. She hadn’t asked about the timeline lately. Part of her didn’t want to know. “I hope so.”
“I’ve already planned to bring Harrison back here when you’re open. We really want to support you however we can. Maybe we can talk about an ad campaign—you know, when you’re ready?”
“I doubt we can afford you.”
Dina flicked the air. “I’d give you the best-friend discount.”
For the briefest moment, Beth saw a glimmer of sadness behind her eyes. It skittered away as quickly as it had come, but it was the first indication that there was more to Dina than flashy cars and beauty-queen fashion.
“You’ve been back in Willow Grove a lot lately,” Beth said.
Dina studied her glass. “I have. Thought I’d use the chance to check up on you. I have to admit, I never thought I’d see you on a farm, covered in dirt, but I guess things change, don’t they?”
Beth looked away.
“I admire you for doing something like this—completely unexpected. It’s hard to break out of the mold everyone else puts you in. Especially when that mold turns out to be different than you thought.”
What was she saying? That she resented her successful company, gorgeous husband and wealthy way of life? Didn’t she know she was living the dream? Beth’s dream.
“It’s just . . .” Dina’s eyes found hers.
“What?”
“You’re not hiding out here, are you? I mean, this is what you want, right?”
She sat with that for a moment. “Hiding from what?”
“I saw Michael’s engagement announcement in the newspaper this morning.”
Beth’s heart dropped. “Oh.”
She hadn’t seen it. She’d been too busy digging around in the dirt.
“You hadn’t heard?”
She shook her head. “But I’m not surprised. I wish him nothing but the best.” How many lies could she tell in one day? She didn’t wish him the best. She wished him the same heartache he’d caused her. That made her an ugly person, and she knew it.
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you.” Now it was Dina who lied. She was probably thrilled to dole this kind of news out to her high school frenemy. Beth wanted her to leave. She wanted to get back to her gardening, to something soothingly monotonous that took her mind off everything else.
“To be honest,” Dina said, “I always kind of thought you two would get back together.”
To be honest, so had Beth. The realization of that stabbed at her.
“You always were everyone’s favorite couple. And when I saw the two of you at the reunion—well, there were still sparks.”
Beth remembered. Michael had walked in wearing that custom-tailored suit, and Callie had let out a low groan. “Why does he still have to be so good-looking?” she’d said. Beth had waved her off, but as soon as she saw him, her heart flip-flopped and she was sixteen again, out on their first date, wondering if he was going to hold her hand during the movie.
Their life together flashed in front of her. High school sweethearts. Homecoming royalty. They’d gone to the same university and made plans together. Future plans. They were supposed to live happily ever after in a city apartment overlooking Lake Michigan. Ten years after graduation, they’d start their family. Two kids. House in the suburbs.
But he’d ruined it. He’d taken all of those years they’d spent together and turned them into wasted time.
Why, then, had she agreed to dance with him at the reunion “for old times’ sake”?
He’d slipped his hand around her, placing it on the small of her back as if he were comfortable with her, familiar with the curves of her body. Because he was. In a way nobody else was.
That night, as he held her on the dance floor, she looked up into his eyes, searching for a sign that he regretted what he’d done.
“You’re still so beautiful, Beth,” he said. “We had so many good times.”
She could smell the alcohol on his breath as he pulled her closer. “That was a long time ago, Michael.”
“But we were good together, weren’t we?”
She didn’t respond.
“We could be good together again—just for tonight.” He turned his face into her neck, lips brushing against her skin. “I have a limo.” His hands had crossed out of comfortable and into intimate. He held one of her hands to his chest, while his other one skimmed the outline of her body. “I know you miss me. I can see it in your eyes.”
Beth inched away from him and forced his gaze. “Is this what you’ve become?”
He loosened his grip on her, but only slightly.
“Or is this who you’ve always been?” Had she been too blind—too lovesick—too caught up in her perfect plan to see it?
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Her eyes scanned his, and she marked the moment in her mind. “I hope you have a wonderful life, Michael,” she said, severing the connection between them. “I really mean that.”
“Where are you going?” He had tried to pull her back, but she’d remained—as she always would—just out of his reach.
It was the closure she’d needed. And yet now, sitting across the table from Dina, her heart still ached knowing there was someone else in his life, someone he loved enough to spend forever with.
“Well, I’m glad to know this whole renovation thing is working out for you.” Dina’s words pulled Beth back to the here and now.
“You said yourself it was a brilliant idea.” Beth hated that a lump had formed at the back of her throat.
“It’s charming, I’ll give you that.”
“But you don’t think it’s brilliant anymore?”
“I didn’t say that.” Dina leaned back slightly in her chair. “Are you guys okay for money?”
“We’re fine,” Beth said—a little too quickly. Dina was the last person she wanted knowing about their financial struggles.
“Good. I’m glad.” She smiled again. Why couldn’t Beth find any trace of condescension on her face? Dina was famous for that. “You’ve sure got the town talking. Everyone is really excited about what you guys are doing for the community.”
The thought made Beth nervous. What if she let them all down? Again?
“Well, I should go. I have a meeting in the city this afternoon.” Dina scooted her chair back and stood up, lingering for a few long seconds, as if she didn’t want to leave.
“Thanks for stopping out.”
“Of course. And I’m serious about the ad campaign. Turns out, I’m pretty good at those.” Dina opened her sleek designer bag and pulled out a small white card. “Here. Call me when you’re ready, and we’ll put something together.”
“Thanks.” Beth took the card, hating that it was Dina whose kindness made her feel like a charity case.
As they stood on the front porch, Dina turned toward her. “Good luck.” She opened her arms, and Beth stepped into a quick but awkward hug.
Dina’s phone rang. “I need to go. See you soon!”
Beth leaned against the railing and watched as the reminder of the life she wasn’t living tiptoed through the grass, got in a sleek silver Lexus and drove away.