Chapter 15: Teach Me: Chapter 15

Jed’s pulling up in the baling tractor when I arrive home.

I’m not sure who I’d rather deal with right now—him or Mama.

I decide to face him first.

“Hey.”

He looks up long enough to do a scan of my clothing.

“How was the morning?”

“We had three loads of hay picked up.”

“Great.”

“And another chunk of the barn came down. Didn’t hit anything too vital.”

I need to get that fixed and soon. “I’m sorry for not being around. I had… something.”

“Yeah. We heard.”

“You heard? Who told you?”

He shakes off his work gloves and tosses them onto the wagon. “Peggy Sue, I think. Or I don’t know. One of them anyway.” He digs a bottle of water out from the cooler. “So he’s gone again?”

I hoist myself onto the wagon, squashing my overwhelming disappointment. “Yup.”

Uncomfortable silence hangs between us.

“I really fucked up this time, didn’t I?”

“Last night? No, Jed. That didn’t change anything. It just proved what I already knew about you.”

He chugs a mouthful of water. “That I’m weak?”

“And a liar. And that you don’t love me as much as you think you do.”

“That’s not true!” he blurts out, taking offense.

“You don’t love me the right way,” I correct.

He sighs, but he doesn’t argue. “It hurt, seeing you with him that night, and then knowing you were flying out to be with him.”

“I do know, because I felt the same way every time I saw you with Cammie on campus. And even when I left for Alaska, knowing she was here with you. It hurt. So much.”

He heaves a sigh. “I guess I just figured you and him would be over by now.”

“Even if Henry and I don’t last, you and I are better off being just friends.”

After a long moment, he finally nods. “I think you may be right.”

I hop off the wagon. “Guess I need to go and deal with Mama now.”

“Can you not mention seeing me last night?”

“I’m not the tattletale.”

He smiles sheepishly, his fingers going to his cheek where I slapped him. “I don’t even know how I let last night happen.”

“Because you knew it would feel good?”

He grins and nods toward the slogan on my tank top.

“I should get one for you, too, ’cause that’s the only reason I can figure for why you’d go into the men’s bathroom with Beth.”

He cringes. “I don’t even like her.”

“Well, word to the wise, I’d stay away from the lot of them. Especially Veronica.”

“So I’ve heard.”

I guess I’m the only one who didn’t. “’Kay. Gotta go deal with Mama.” I start moving toward the house but then stop. “Hey Jed? You should see about enrolling in class still.”

“Nah… You know, I actually like farming.” He slides his hands into his pockets, a smile of satisfaction touching his lips. “It’s been fun, just like I always imagined. Well, minus the billionaire coming in to steal you away. But I know this is what I want to be doing. I don’t even really care if I finish school.” He shrugs. “So we’ll see.’

“I’m glad you’ve figured that part out, Jed.”

“Me, too. Abigail.” He adds, a little more softly, “Abbi.”

I hesitate. “Henry asked me to meet him in France in three weeks. I’m going.”

Resignation fills his face. “I’ll be here to take care of things.”

For the first time in months, I walk away from Jed with a genuine smile.

Mama and Daddy are at the kitchen table when I step inside.

“Morning.”

Mama gives my outfit a side-eye, while my dad’s gaze shifts to the clock. It’s just after one.

Henry’s plane would have just taken off.

I push that thought aside.

“Jed said another chunk of the roof came off. We really need to get that fixed.”

My dad sighs. “We should be able to scrape together enough for materials by early October. And your mother has been talking to a few people at the congregation who might be willing to lend a hand.”

“I was actually thinking we could hire the Dorset Brothers to do it sooner.”

“We don’t have the money for that.”

“I can pay for a new roof.”

“You?” Mama’s eyes narrow. “Or him?”

“I made a lot of money in Alaska.” Not that much, but they don’t need to know that.

Mama’s already shaking her head. “No, I won’t have that man paying for our farm. The next thing we know, he’ll be trying to convince us to sell the land for condominiums! Or a hotel!”

“Which is exactly what we’ll be doing if we don’t start putting some money into the upkeep of this place!” my dad argues. “If Abigail says she has the money, then we need to use it and be thankful. I’ll call Dorset just before dinner, when he’s bound to be home.”

Mama opens her mouth.

Daddy slams his good arm on the table. “Enough, Bernadette! She’s with him, end of discussion.”

Awkward silence hangs in the air.

I break it with, “I’m going to France in three weeks. Just for a few days. Jed said he’d take care of things while I’m gone.” May as well get it all out there while we’re fighting.

Mama heaves herself out of her chair and marches for the den. The rocking chair groans in protest under her weight.

“France,” my dad murmurs. “That’s exciting.”

“It is.”

He nods, though his smile is sad. “She’s not gonna interfere none anymore. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Thanks, Daddy.”

“It’s your life. You should live it how you want to.”

I plan on it.

~ ~ ~

“Farm Girl Soap Company?”

I’m sitting in our kitchen with my laptop open, frowning at the concept documents that Zaheera emailed me at the start of this meeting.

“It sounds organic and natural, but also fun. And it has a touch of personal flair, too. You live on a farm, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“It’s a perfect fit. You aren’t limiting yourself to specific blends and scents. I mean, Sage Oils is fine and all, but it makes your consumers think that they’re predominantly getting, well… sage. But from the information we got, I see that you also have mint, and lavender, thyme… even some lemon. I’ll need you to fill in some holes but for now, if you’ll flip to page two, you can see some of the concept packaging we’ve come up with. Are you scrolling?”

“I’m scrolling.” She’s barely taken a breath. I think that’s her way of stopping me from asking questions or disagreeing with her.

“So for packing, we wanted something contradictory. Simple paper wrap and twine, but balanced with upscale labelling. Natural, but balanced with a touch of class. The kind of stuff you might find in a high-end boutique hotel with personality. Also, great for gifting. Do you see the image?”

“I do. They look… great, actually.” They’ve designed round embossed labels with “Farm Girl” in fancy font, the F and G much larger than the other letters. In her drawings are four square packages, each a different color. Even the colors she’s chosen are striking. Considering I currently wrap my bars of soap in plastic wrap and buy small, plastic bottles from the Dollar Store for my moisturizers and oils, this is a huge step up. “How much will all this packaging cost though?” I can’t see myself charging two dollars more per bar of soap to old Peggy Sue, just so she can rip the fancy packaging off.

“A lot less than you’d expect, especially as your production runs get bigger.”

“Production runs?” I made a dozen lemon and thyme bars last week. Is that what she means?

“Yes. Don’t worry about any of that right now though. First, we need to get the best product. And we were told you’re eager to get started.”

I roll my eyes at Henry. Everything is breakneck speed with that man. Then again, getting my mind involved with this will keep it busy while I wait for France. “Well, I definitely am looking to keep busy.”

She laughs. “You will definitely be busy with this. Are you with me so far?”

I smile. “Yes. Absolutely.”

“Okay, this is what I need from you….”