“Those look really good,” he remarked. “I’ll take four of those.”
“Okay, I’ll put them by the register,” I said. “Just take your time and look around.”
“Sure,” he replied.
I busied myself with the muffins and then tidying up my boxes and bags from the checkout area, moving them to the back room. I washed my hands in the bathroom sink and went back out to arrange my jams on the shelf.
“Nice store,” John remarked. He added a quart of blueberries, carrots, and two jars of strawberry jam to the muffins already sitting on the counter. He pointed to a bench that sat toward the front of the store. “Who made that?”
“Archie. The previous owners of the farm left some woodworking equipment behind in the barn, so he started making benches. He used to help his grandpa with woodworking projects quite a bit. They came out well. We have two on our front porch, and two in the barn. I thought I’d bring it in and see if it sells.”
John walked over to the bench and lifted the price tag. He nodded. “I’ll take it. He did a nice job on it.”
I nodded and was going to say something but stopped. John’s attention had diverted to something outside. He walked over to the front window and stared. While he was distracted, I stared at him. I understood why Robin didn’t want to date him, even beyond the tractor talk. There was something judgmental about him, unnerving, even though it wasn’t something that came through in an obvious fashion, but rather a vibe, an energy I felt from him. A feeling that settled over you when you didn’t particularly like someone, but are not sure why, certainly not for a reason you could state. I didn’t trust him.
“What’s going on outside?” I asked.
John shrugged. “Oh, nothing. Just someone I wanted to talk to, but I’ll catch up with them later.” He walked up to the checkout counter.
“Okay, so you want the bench; that will make Archie’s day,” I said, walking over to the register. I rung up the rest of his purchases.
“Tell him it will be sitting on my front porch,” John said.
“Oh, I will,” I replied.
“So, did you and Robin have a good time Friday night?” he asked, his gaze squarely on me.
“Oh, yeah, we had fun,” I said. “The food was good. I had the chicken marsala.”
“Yes, that is good there,” he agreed. “Maybe when Robin and I go out again, I’ll take her there.”
I nodded, unsure of how to respond. I placed his groceries in a paper bag. He swiped his card, and I handed him his bag and receipt.
“Thanks for stopping in; do you need help with the bench?” I asked.
“Nope, I got it.” He walked over and easily picked it up.
“Great, enjoy the rest of your day.”
“Thanks, same to you. I’m off from the hardware store today, but I’ll be cutting hay later.”
“Oh, that’s right, Robin mentioned that you farmed too?”
“Did she?” His eyes brightened. “Yeah, Archie asked the other week if I’d be interested in doing your fields. You have corn and alfalfa, right?”
“Oh… yes we do,” I replied. Surprised that Archie hadn’t mentioned this to me. And I never should have told him what Robin said about him; now he knew we’d talked about him. She wouldn’t be happy with that.
“Anyway, you’ll see me later at your house.”
“Oh, all right.”
“Okay, great,” said John, picking up his bag. “Have a good one.”
I nodded, watching him walk out the door. I grabbed my phone and typed a text to Archie.
So, John Larabe is doing our alfalfa fields today?
Three dots.
Great.
Three dots.
I told you about that, right?
No, why didn’t you?
Sorry, babe. I must have forgot.
I sighed. It wasn’t a big deal, but annoying.
Three dots.
Sorry. ❤️
He is sweet.
OK, just keep me in the loop.
