Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22648 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22648 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
This area upstate is mostly farmland, but the community comes together once a week to sell or trade. When I’m staying at the house, I like to come to the market and get stuff to make dinner.
“Ohh, should we get some honey?” Abbie sees the table covered in amber jars of liquid gold and bounces on her toes.
“As much as you want.” I’ve probably got a few jars at the house, but I would buy the whole table if it kept her this happy.
The beekeeper tells us about the different flavors and lets Abbie try a few samples. While she’s talking to him, I watch her, and it’s a thing of beauty. She uses her hands to express herself, and at one point, she even snorts a laugh. I have no idea what they’re talking about, but my god, I could watch this all day.
Once she’s filled a box with who knows how many jars, I pay the beekeeper and heft the box in my arms.
“I’m sorry it’s so heavy,” Abbie whispers as we walk away. “They were all so good, and he was so nice.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m your muscle for the day.” I wink at her, and she blushes. God, I love when she does that. I want to reach out and hold her, but this box is making that difficult. “Let me go put these in the car so I’ve got free hands.”
“Ooooh, snowcones.” Her eyes widen as she turns in the opposite direction of the car.
“Abbie,” I say, and she waves me off.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Car. Got it. See you in a few.” She walks toward the snowcones, and I laugh to myself. I guess she really likes them.
It takes me a few minutes to get to the car and put the honey in the trunk. The box is an odd shape, and I have to bend the sides to get it to fit. We had my driver bring us to the house yesterday, but since I’ve got a car that I keep at the house, he took the SUV back to the city. This little car isn’t meant to hold much, but it’s fun to drive around town.
Once it’s loaded, I go back to the farmers market in search of Abbie. On the way, I see people milling around, and most of them I recognize. A few even wave at me, and I remind myself that even though I don’t come often, the town is small enough that they remember who I am.
There’s a table on the far side of the market that’s selling flowers, and it catches my attention. I’m still walking as I crane my neck to check it for daisies. I’ve already made up my mind to tell Abbie to steer clear of the table just in case when I see someone beyond it.
A man in a dark shirt and sunglasses is standing there, completely still and staring in my direction. His stillness is what makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Everyone here seems to be in motion, myself included. By the time my brain registers what I’m seeing, something hits my arm.
“Oh dear, I’m so sorry,” an elderly woman says after bumping into me.
“I’m so sorry,” I say back as I reach out to steady her.
“It’s my fault,” she whispers as she leans in close. “I had a few too many samples at the wine table, if you catch my drift.” She winks at me, and then her daughter is there, taking her back to the table.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her that’s a mistake when I remember the guy with the sunglasses. I look up, scanning the crowd, but I don’t see him anywhere. Maybe I’m imagining it, but I can’t shake the feeling that he was out of place.
My instincts are telling me to get back to Abbie, so that’s exactly what I do. The market has gotten busy since we got here, and my urgency to get to her only grows the longer it takes. By the time I make it to the truck that’s selling snowcones, I can feel my heartbeat thumping against my chest.
“Abbie?” I call out as I turn in place, desperate to find her. My urgency has turned to panic, and even though I’m a head taller than everyone around me, I can’t find her. “Abbie!”
I shout her name so loudly that several people next to me stop and stare. I don’t give a fuck. What if someone took her? What if—
“Up here,” Abbie calls, and I whip around to see her at the snowcone truck, holding a scoop in her hand. She’s wearing a little paper hat and looks like the happiest person on earth. “They let me shave the ice! Can you believe it?”