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“Yes, I can.”
“Tell everyone not to hurt my chickens!” her mom called after him.
“Mom…why do you want chickens?”
“For the eggs, dear, like I said.” Lowering her voice, she added, “And only slightly to annoy your father.”
“I thought you were supposed to love, honor, and obey your husband?”
Her mom scoffed. “Not since the dark ages. Wedding vows now state wives are to love, honor, and annoy their husbands. Keeps them on their toes. You’ll learn when you get married.”
Merry rolled her eyes. “I might elope to Vegas when I decide to tie the knot.”
She didn’t even cast Merry an outraged glance. “You wouldn’t dare break your mother’s heart like that.” Cupping her mouth with her hands, Victoria shouted, “Come on, Jace. Let’s finish the cookies.” Jace raced back up the hill and her mother patted Merry’s arm. “Stop by the house after you’re done with Mr. Olson. You look like you could use a cup of coffee.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Bye, Merry,” Jace called as he ran past both of them. When she was all alone with Mr. Olson, she leaned against the car and listened to the old man snore. If only she had her phone, she could at least scroll through Instagram as she waited and answer messages. She’d already been able to fill all the generic pre-orders from Holly’s online form and had half a dozen custom orders she needed to work on that were due before Christmas. She could be working instead of drunk-sitting and she looked toward the sky, silently asking why her day went to hell.
Merry heard a car and whirled around, expecting to find a sheriff’s deputy rolling up the drive. Instead, a white Ford truck stopped alongside her. A woman leaned over the seat and waved, her voice carrying out of the open window. “Hi. You all right?”
“Oh yeah, just waiting for someone to pick up this chicken flinger.”
“I’m sorry, what?” she asked.
“Sorry, long story. Can I help you?”
The woman appeared to be in her early thirties, with russet- brown hair and a dainty silver ring in her nose. “I’m looking for Clark Griffin. His folks told me he works here.”
Merry paused, taking a step closer to the truck. “He does. If you go out onto the main road and turn right, the next entrance will take you to the farm. He should be there.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome.” Merry’s curiosity got the best of her and she asked, “Would you like to give me your name? In case I see him first.”
“It’s Patrice,” she said with a small smile. Merry stiffened and the woman released a bitter laugh. “Guess he’s told you about me?”
“Not a lot,” Merry hedged.
“I’m sure what he did mention didn’t cast a flattering light on my character. I put that man through the ringer.” Patrice laughed bitterly, and Merry got the feeling she was fishing for a confirmation. “Probably won’t be happy to see me.”
Merry cleared her throat and leaned against the door. “If you think that’s the case, maybe you should wait. I don’t want to overstep, but he’s at work and there’s a lot of people down there today. He might not have time to talk.”
“You two involved?” The question wasn’t rude, simply curious.
“We are.”
“Do you…how is my son?”
While her voice remained passive, Merry saw the pinch of sadness in her eyes and softened.
“He’s a great kid.”
“So, nothing like me,” she joked.
“I…sorry, I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“It’s all right. Let me give you my number.” She pulled out a card and Merry leaned in to take it. “Tell Clark I’ll be waiting for his call.”
