Page 77 of Fall is Brewing

Our first stop is The Harvest Table Café, a narrow little place with steamed windows, mismatched chairs, and the kind of menu written in chalk by someone who believes deeply in soup being a full meal. The bell over the door jingles as we step inside, and the whole place smells like coffee, maple bacon, and biscuits warm enough to make a man reconsider every decision that led him away from breakfast.

Nora Bell, the owner, looks up from behind the counter. “Brooks, hi.”

“Good morning, Nora,” I say and just as she spots Willa behind me, her smile falls.

“And, um… Willa,” she adds, nervously. “H-hi.”

“I’m just giving Brooks a hand. It’s temporary,” Willa says brightly.

Nora hums like she doesn’t believe either of us. “Everything interesting starts that way.”

I set the sample case on the counter before Willa can answer. “I brought you the new dry reserve to try. Thought it might pair with your cheddar-apple scones.”

Nora folds her arms, her eyes darting quickly to Willa. “Well, you know I already carry Hartley cider.”

“I do.”

Willa goes still beside me.

Her gaze slides to Willa, and her smile sharpens with interest. “And you’re still pitching me? With Willa right here?”

“I’m not asking you to replace them,” I say. “Just offering another local option if you ever want variety.”

The words sound simple. They are not.

Every time I say them, it costs me something. Pride, maybe. Or the part of me that wants to prove Calder Cider belongs here by earning a spot no one can take away.

I pop open one of the bottles and pour her a taste. “Try it alongside your scone. I promise you won’t be disappointed.” I wait as she hesitates a moment, then scurries behind her counter to put a scone on a plate.

As she does that, I pour a taste for both Willa and myself. Nora takes a sip and breaks off a piece of scone, sliding the plate toward Willa and me to have some as well. We each take a small piece.

“Mmm,” Nora says after her sip. “They do pair really well together.”

Willa gives me a tight smile. “They really do.”

“At Calder Cider, we’ve been working really hard to complement the menu items at Hartley & Sons… not compete with them. This cider is unlike anything Hartley & Sons brews and it wouldn’t take away anything from your business with them. I… we…” I say, pausing to include Willa, maybe a bit presumptuously. “Believe that our businesses can exist together in this town in tandem.”

I look at Willa and lift my brows at her, an invitation to chime in if she so wishes.

After a moment, she nods, her face softening. “That’s right, Nora. There will probably always be some crossover of our products, so a little healthy competition here and there,” Willa pauses to nudge me with her elbow. “But I agree with Brooks. We can exist in this town together without being at each other’s throats all the time.”

Nora’s shoulders relax a fraction. “Well… I don’t have shelf space right this moment.”

“I figured.” I slide one unopened bottle forward anyway. “There’s no pressure. Keep one to try another time when you do have a moment to rethink your inventory.”

With that, we get up and leave.

Outside, Willa is quiet as we load the empty crate back into the truck.

“You didn’t argue,” she says.

“Would’ve made it harder to come back and try again later.”

She studies me like I’ve said something more interesting than I intended. “You’re very patient for someone so annoying.”

“I’m like a kaleidoscope of contradictions,” I say, grinning.

“Don’t steal my line.”