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I stand there for a moment, well aware I’m in deep trouble. I want Alisha. And she’d been pretty clear that she’s not there yet. I need to feel her, but she’s reserved and pulling back. I’m not the kind of guy who’d force myself on her, of course. I’m also worried about her date with Methew and what that means.
What if they hit it off and he convinces her to join him for whatever he has in mind? Just because he’s still married doesn’t mean he’s faithful, or that he and his wife don’t have some kind of... arrangement. Troubled by the thoughts, I quickly scrub myself clean and rinse off, ready for the day I’d planned last night in the midst of a fever delusion.
“We're going to do what?” She sounds confused as she stares at me. I'd cornered her just after she got out of her car and we’re standing in my driveway, talking about my plans for the day.
“I thought you might want to go to the farmer’s market.” Now that I've said the words a second time, her expression clears up and a slow smile lifts the corners for lips.
“I would like that. I'd like that a lot.” She sounds surprised at her own words, or maybe she's surprised at my idea.
“I'll drive,” I say, and she makes her way over as if in a daze and gets in as I walk around into the driver’s side.
A few moments later we're on the road and she glances over at me, her eyes twinkling. “You didn't have to do this, you know, but thank you.”
I lift both shoulders. Eventually, I'm going to have to tell her how I feel about her. Maybe it's a good idea to get to know her a little better and be interested in her interests, and show her that I can be the kind of person she can enjoy spending time with. A farmers market seemed like just the ticket.
We can see the tents long before I pull into a parking spot and the second I put the car in park she bounces out, before I can even kill the engine. I can't help but smile at her exuberance.
She hurries around to my side and takes my hand, pulling me along. As we step amongst the vibrant tapestry of tents in the farmers market, scents, sounds, and sighs overtake us. I can make out the scent of sweet strawberries mingling with earthy herbs, freshly baked bread smells wafting on the breeze, and the invigorating aroma of ripe fruit.
She hurries over to the first tent, where vivid red tomatoes nestle amongst golden ears of corn with their husks gently whistling in the breeze. Little miniature baskets overflow with plump berries, blueberries, black berries, salmonberries, and a few others I don’t even recognize, like the tiny dark berries that are much sparser.
“What are those?” I ask, taking her elbow and pointing to the small black berries.
“Those are elderberries. I'm surprised someone is selling those.” She sounds genuinely concerned as we walk up to the table and examine the berries.
“Why?” I ask in a low voice as the owner of the stall speaks with another couple, their conversation animated with hand gestures and laughter as if they’re old friends.
Alisha leans into me and speaks in a low voice. “Elderberries are poisonous unless they're cooked. Most people don't know that, so selling them here is rather dangerous from a liability standpoint.”
“That does seem risky.” She moves away from my side, heading for another stall and I follow. We stop at a bustling bakery tent that entices us with their artisanal loaves. The scent of freshly baked bread leaves my mouth watering and just the look of their flakey golden crusts and beautiful patterns leaves me wanting to buy the whole tent. But she's already moving on to the next tent that displays a delightful assortment of cheeses in wheels, wedges, and long round cylinders mixed with berries or herbs.
“This place is amazing. I can't believe I've never been here before.” When she glances at me, I can see how lit up her face is and joy warms my blood. The next tent she stops at seems to be all delicious desserts with freshly made doughnuts, pies, cookies, brownies, and every delicious treat known to man on a table that had to be nearly buckling under the weight.
“Those donuts look good,” she says, lifting her hand to point at the cinnamon donuts. But as she moves, our hands brush one another, and a cascade of tingles erupt from the point of contact to flood my body.
Without a word, I pull out my wallet and buy two donuts, offering her one and taking the other. She lifts hers while arching an eyebrow in a clear request for me to do the same. I mirror her movement, unsure what she's going to do. She touches her donut to mine with a smile and says, “Cheers!”
I can't hold back a smile at how adorable she is.
Eating our delicious cinnamon and sugar treats, we venture through the bustling farmers market, navigating stalls overflowing with vibrant produce and the intoxicating scent of freshly baked goods.
As we stroll side-by-side, she becomes my guide, unveiling a world of knowledge about health, nutrition, and the intricate nuances of micro and macro nutrients.
I've always known that the way food fuels our body is an intricate process, but now when she explains it, it sounds interesting, but in school when they’d tried to teach me, I’d had to fight sleep. The subject that I always found so boring isn't boring when she talks about how we’ve all been taught all wrong about food our whole lives.
We stop by another vegetable booth where a farmer proudly displays his harvest, a testament to his dedication and labor of love. Stalks of leafy green plants stand tall with leaves ruffling in the breeze while a rainbow assortment of bell peppers, potatoes, and carrots decorate the table in a truly captivating array of color, beauty, and imperfections.
She stops at his table and touches the carrots with longing in her eyes.
“You're welcome to get whatever you want for yourself or for my house. My treat.” I didn't bring her to the farmers market to just look.
She tosses a surprised glance in my direction. “Are you sure?”
I nod my head, sure that I've never been so certain of anything in my life.
She orders some of the multi-colored veggies and once they're in a basket, she takes my hand and leads me back from shop to shop, picking out her favorite foods and telling me things about them. At the tent selling cheese, she has me try some very mixed goat cheese, and while I'm nervous at first to try any fruit mixed with cheese, I discover that I love the flavor combination.
From there on out, I'm not nervous to try anything she offers.
