“Wanna see what Quinn’s been working on?”
“Sure,” I say, and we walk out to Vaniel. Molly hums quietly and looks up at the stars. The sky is clear tonight, the bugs loud, and it strikes me how different the two farms are. Mine is much noisier, even at night, with animals stomping and snorting. Ethan’s crops don’t make a peep.
In the van, we toe off our shoes, and Molly puts the leftovers in her fridge. The last tour didn’t include details on the electrical system, so Molly gives me a bare rundown of how it works. Thanks to government funding, we were able to put solar panels on the south-facing roof of the barn, a project that I largely handled, so I know the basics of how these things work. After Molly walks me through her system, I’m pretty up to speed.
“What’re you going to use for your battery management system?”
“Uhhh…” Molly wrinkles her brow in concentration. “I don’t remember.”
“What about?—”
Molly holds up a hand to cut me off. “Maybe talk to Quinn. I understand what she’s saying—kinda—while she says it, but it’s over my head.” She chuckles self-deprecatingly.
I straighten from where I was crouched on the floor and immediately whack my head on the ceiling. “Damn it.”
“Oof, you okay?”
I rub it. Nothing but bruised pride. “Yeah.” That’s my cue to leave.
Molly follows me to the door, which is open but covered with a screen curtain, keeping the bugs out.
I toss my boots onto the nearby grass and sit down at the lip of the floor to tug them on. I get up and turn around, coming face-to-face with Molly, who stands inside the van, holding the screen out of the way.
“Well,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Instead of answering, Molly bends over, putting her hand on my chest and freezing me in place. Her lips meet mine in a quick, soft kiss. She tastes like wine and strawberries and warmth. My brain, which has been sputtering a bit every time I’ve thought about Molly today, full-on seizes.
She straightens up, smiles at me, and lets her hand fall. “Goodnight, Alex. See you tomorrow.”
CHAPTER17
ALEX
Ethan picksme up in his truck on Tuesday. I climb in the cab while Ethan peers out the windshield. Trixie’s staying back with Kit today, who waves from the barn.
“Place looks good,” Ethan says.
I look back and try to see it with my brother’s eyes. It is a good-looking farm—Perry, who’s a welder and very handy, keeps the fences in good order, the grass is bright summer green, and the barn’s a nice, butter-yellow color. I don’t think much has changed since Ethan saw it last, but I’ll take the compliment.
“How’s Lia?” I ask.
Ethan tells me about taking her to Climax for her infusion last week, talking about her Crohn’s diagnosis, and using words like “white blood cell count” and “FOD-MAP diet.” I’m lost, but it's clear that my brother has taken the time to educate himself and help Lia.
We pull into the parking lot at Lick Your Fork.
“Well, if it isn’t the oldest two Bedd boys,” the waitress, Latonya, comments when we walk in. She’s been working here as long as I’ve known her, and one of her grandkids was in Colleen’s class a few years back. Her dark skin has deep laugh lines, and her gray hair is up in a tight bun. “Anyone else joining you?”
“Just us, LT,” Ethan says.
Latonya leads us to a window booth, plops menus down, and immediately asks what we want.
“Veggie omelet, please,” I say.
“Hash browns on the side?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She turns to my brother. “And lemme guess; the special?”
