Simon chuckled. “When you said farmers’ market?—”
“You thought we were a bunch of hipsters selling our boutique soaps?”
He nodded. “I didn’t expect real farmers.”
“Don’t worry, Ms. Spencer has boutique soaps, too. She has bees and makes them with real honey. I learned the hard way when I kicked my soccer ball in her backyard.”
Simon rested a hand on the middle of my back, guiding me along. I’d have let him usher me anywhere he wanted. Itried willing his hand lower. Not obscene, but close enough to my ass it’d be questionable. By the time we reached the water fountain, I hadn’t gotten my wish.
We took a seat on a park bench, close enough to hear the trickling water. The fountain was only a few inches taller than me, but it added to the ambiance. It sat on one end while the gazebo occupied the other. During my lunch breaks, it made for a pleasant stroll when I needed to stretch my legs.
“How are you adjusting to the small-town life?”
Simon set all four grocery bags next to the bench before leaning back and relaxing. “I’m loving it. There’s something refreshing about knowing my neighbors’ names.”
“Give it a few weeks. You’ll know more than their names.”
“It can’t be that bad, can it?”
I turned on the bench to face him. “I know you live in Vinny’s old house.”
His eyes widened.
“You put your trash can on the right side of your driveway. Which, for whatever reason, is thewrongside.”
His jaw dropped.
“You should get curtains for your bedroom. Unless you want to keep putting on a show for Mrs. Hawthorne.”
“I… I… I don’t know what to say. Are people really talking?”
I gave him a pat on the leg. Two seconds, no more, even though I wanted to let it linger. “You’re new in town. A bigcity chef coming to our town? I’m surprised the gazette hasn’t asked for an interview.”
“Too late.”
I gestured to him. “See! Don’t worry. Eventually, there will be a scandal, and they’ll all move on.”
“Scandal? In Firefly?”
“Somebody will be five cents short at the grocery store. Jaywalking comes up a lot. Let’s not mention how we all know Patricia is having an affair with the milkman.” It made me wonder how long before somebody in town mentioned my mom and Gerald.
“Front page news, I see.”
“Explain it to me. Why here? You lived in Boston. It must have been way more exciting than Firefly?”
He mulled over the question. “Exciting isn’t the word I’d use. Overwhelming, maybe. The restaurant I worked at was doing well. It just…” He trailed off. He fiddled with the bottom of his t-shirt as his mind wandered. “During the divorce, it became too much. I worked too many hours to afford our house. I didn’t see Lucas enough, and Lucy…”
He paused at the mention of his ex-wife’s name. It was my turn to rest a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me.”
He snorted. “Might as well. I’m sure you’ll hear it from Mrs. Hawthorne.”
“So true.”
“It’s all about the slower pace of life. I don’t want to be the chef with a kid. I want to be the dad who is a chef.Hopefully, Firefly will give me a chance to get my priorities in order.”
I imagined being able to go into stores without an hour's drive each way. Most of my life had been spent within the town’s borders. Ihadto love the town. The city, however, had luxuries we’d never have.
“You had museums.”
