“They also aid in a woman’s fertility. The Greeks were the first to discover that fact. They’re also incredibly sweet when they’re ripe and plump.” He leaned toward her, holding the fig between his thumb and forefinger, and lifted it closer to her gaze. The older woman looked interested, but as I got near, I could see there was also a gleam there that had me halting in place.
I’d seen that look before.
“Oh, what an interesting fact, young man. Now, if you’re looking for a really salacious vegetable, look no further than celery,” she said as she reached down and grabbed a stalk of the light-green vegetable. “Celery contains a chemical that acts like a natural Viagra. It worked for my dear Mr. Hensen for many years.”
I choked back vomit at the thought of the widowed octogenarian and her late husband going crazy in the bedroom. He used to play the organ for our church, and I refused to believe he did anything sexual. Ever.
“Also, that same chemical ignites the female libido as well,” Dean added, setting the fig back down with one of his sinister grins, as more customers gathered around the booth, enthralled by the back-and-forth between the two.
When he reached for the single pineapple—an item I grabbed from the store to cut up for myself as a snack later—I immediately stepped forward. I knew where he was headed with his next round of comments and information, and there were too many children listening in.
Reaching across the display, I snatched the pineapple from his grasp, wincing as the pointy edges dug into my palm, and set the pineapple back down behind the produce for sale. “I’ll take back over. Thanks for covering for me, Dean. Mrs. Hensen, it’s always a pleasure to see you. What can I get you this morning?”
Her nose wrinkled as she explored the display. The patrons who had gathered began dispersing, realizing the show was now over.
“I’ll take ten figs and four celery stalks,” she replied with a sigh.
“Of course. What sort of concoction are you making this time?” I asked, trying to distract her from the conversation with Dean, who was back in his camping chair with his feet propped up on the table.
“I was thinking of making some fig tarts for the local bake sale tomorrow, and the celery for a Bloody Mary, just because I like a little spice in my life.”
I nearly choked on my tongue at her statement—not that what she said surprised me. Mrs. Hensen always knew how to keep us on our toes. She was quickly on her way after I packaged up her items and took her payment.
When the coast was clear, I spun around and chastised Dean, who sat behind me smugly. “You’re incorrigible.” He knew exactly what he was doing with the elderly woman.
“Ah, she likes it. Anyway, back to my previous statement. You should come with me to Scotland next month.”
Sighing, I turned my attention away from him and leaned against the table, crossing my arms against my chest. I hadn’t been on a vacation since my high school spring break trip with my friend Jenna. Our senior year, we took a very tame trip to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. While the rest of our class traveled to Miami and caused all sorts of raucous, we were sitting poolside with a book and an iced tea as her parents watched over us.
Yep, I hadn’t been on an actual vacation in six years. I couldn’t have gotten any lamer if I tried.
Before I could respond, I felt Dean’s large body press up next to mine as he draped his arm across my shoulders. “Look, kid, I just don’t want you to work yourself into the ground. You’ll wake up one day, and you’ll be thirty, or even forty, wondering what all that work was for.” His words hit me right in my chest. I glanced up at my friend and noticed the forlorn look in his eyes as he gazed across the market.
Uncrossing my arms, I wrapped one around his waist and leaned my head against his chest. “I can’t take the trip with you, but I promise to cut back on the work just a little. Maybe even go out a bit more.”
“That’s my girl,” Dean said, before releasing me and reaching for his phone tucked in his pants pocket.
While he chatted with whoever was on the other end of the call, I rang up the couple who let their kids pick out a bunch of fruit for their lunches the coming week, and there was a steady flow of customers for an hour more. When I looked up after the last person in line, I glanced around at the dwindling crowd. Noticing some of the other booths were already packing up, I started to do the same. Most of the produce was gone, so I packaged up what I had left into a single bag, which I planned to drop off at the church in town. They’d distribute it to local families in need and those in the surrounding counties.
Despite Ashfield flourishing over the last couple of decades, there were still families who struggled, especially as more and more developers moved close by and grocery stores stopped selling locally grown produce. My family and a lot of neighboring vendors did our part the best we could. Even though we lived in a small town, and everyone knew most things about everyone, there were still secrets that lingered. Sometimes, it was in everyone’s best interest to keep quiet, usually to not embarrass someone.
“Are you heading back to the farm, or over to Talon’s?” I asked, referring to my brother-in-law, who was Dean’s best friend.
“Yeah, I have some work to do in Knoxville, then I’ll be traveling. You probably won’t get to see my handsome mug for a couple of weeks. I know that devastates you.”
Pretending to be in shock, I slammed my hand against my chest, my mouth falling open. “Whatever shall I do while I wait for your return?” I asked in an over-the-top Southern accent, reminiscent of actresses in classic movies.
I began loading the back of the truck with the empty crates, stacking them in the way my mom preferred. Dean had to answer another call, so I hauled the last crate into the back and shut the tailgate.
Off in the distance, I vaguely heard the sound of a name being called, but I ignored it and continued to tear down the booth setup. Without Dean’s help, I struggled with the canopy and unlatching the legs.
“Dammit!” I hissed as the metal button pinched my thumb.
The shouting continued across the lot, and I quickly realized the name they were calling was mine.
“Aspen!”
Turning around, I was nearly tackled by my best friend Jenna as she dashed over to me.
“Aspen, oh my gosh,” she said as she leaned forward, hands on her knees, as she worked to catch her breath.
“Jenna, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
At that moment, Dean must have ended his call, because he stepped up beside me with a puzzled look on his face.
“She having a heart attack?” he asked as she reached out for my arm while she huffed. Jenna had a naturally athletic-looking build but had never worked out a day in her life. I would’ve hated her if she hadn’t been my closest friend since we were in preschool.
I didn’t acknowledge his question but slapped him across the stomach, then took a step closer to Jenna.
“You okay?” I asked as I rested my hand on her back, gently sliding it up and down to comfort her.
“Yes,” she finally responded, straightening, and that’s when I noticed her hand tightly gripping her phone. “Aspen, have you seen the gossip channels this morning?”
“You know that’s more your cup of tea. I stay away from all that stuff.” Ever since my older sisters married people who were in the public eye, I steered clear of the tabloids. I didn’t know how they dealt with it. Seeing nasty, fake headlines posted about someone I love would’ve been too much for me.
Out the corner of my eye, I watched as Dean slipped his phone out of his pocket and began scrolling. What he was looking for, I wasn’t sure.
“Well, you need to read this.” Jenna shoved her phone into my hand, ignoring the fact that I held my aching thumb in my opposite fist.
