Page 35 of A Bittersweet Summer

“So we let her,” I snap, reigning my tone in for the follow-up statement. “She’s an adult.”

My mother waves me off. “Anyway,” she continues, as if we’d been talking for ages. “I have a teacher from the school wanting to get her daughter in for some lessons. I wouldn’t normally ask this, but I was hoping you’d let her ride in exchange for helping out around here. The girl’s mother doesn’t have much as she’s going through a…” My mom lowers her voice as if she’s sharing a secret. “A divorce.”

“The audacity,” I jibe. “You wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“Wesley, seriously.”

I start making my way to the door, my mom standing from her perch on the chest to trail behind. I head to the office with her hot on my heels. “I am fine with it,” I say, not sure why she made it such a big deal.

My mom started working as a school secretary after I took over the farm. She said she wasn’t quite ready to retire and needed to keep busy. She seems to like it—most likely because there’s a plethora of gossip to be had among the staff.

My mother has always been interested in gossip and rumors. It was something my father hated. She has also been one to have a very strong opinion on whatever gossip she heard. My father hated that even more.

“When would she want to try it out?” I ask, my hand extending to twist the knob to the office.

Mom’s footsteps sound right behind me. “Next week sometime. I’m happy to let her know. I also wondered if you’d like to get dinner tonight? No worries if not. I just figured I’d ask since I’m here. It really has been so long since we got to chat. I feel like you speak to your sister more than me.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes before catching a glimpse of the grocery bag atop the office table. I can see yellows and greens poking out of the top.

I reach for it, confirming it is exactly what I think it is.

Cassidy forgot the gift here.

There’s a moment where I try to talk myself out of the thought that already popped up in my head.

There is no logical reason for me to be concerned about this at all—and yet.

“Can’t,” I say, clutching the bag in my fist. “Asher will be here to do late afternoon and evening chores, and I have an errand I need to run.”

Mom scoffs. “Well, what is it?”

“Grand opening for a bed and breakfast a ways away.” I try to offer as few details as possible.

“A—” My mother’s brows furrow. “What?”

“Long story,” I say. “Point is, we will have to do dinner on a different day. I’ll talk to Roe, though, and give that mom the farm’s number. I’ll get her kid scheduled.”

With the bag in hand, I move toward my mom, planting a firm kiss on her cheek. “Love you, Mom.”

Once I’m out of the office, I pull my phone out, looking up Cassidy’s social media. She posted a picture last week next to the bed and breakfast sign. In the photo, she’s wearing something other than her usual leggings—white overalls cut off into shorts and a pale blue tank top. With sunglasses atop her head, Cass’s blonde hair spins around her in the wind.

She’s smiling at the camera—the way she always seems to be smiling, but in the picture, she holds a paintbrush in hand.

It’s not that I meant to keep checking on her social media—it just happened.

Regardless, the sign gives me the name of the place, and I know exactly where I’m headed.

This gift was important to her, and I intend to deliver it just in time.

Eleven

Cassidy

Lennon has never been soft—at least not her exterior. But as she demands to see Ellis’s ring for what seems to be the twentieth time, I catch a small glimmer of the softness beneath her hard exterior.

She’s a romantic at heart.

Even in the midst of celebrating her own success, she somehow manages to turn the focus back to Ellis and her engagement.