“I don’t do bread,” she said. She patted her flat tummy which was snug in a pair of expensive jeans. “I can’t stay in these size four jeans if I eat bread.”
“Do you and Tom eat out often?” Nora asked, because she’d seen Tom at the table. He clearly wasn’t worried about getting into his jeans.
“Around here? Not so much. But I’m sure that will change when the harvest is over and Tom comes to see me rather than me always traveling to the orchard. I’m only here to attend a course in Davis. I look forward to taking Tom to some of my favorite restaurants.”
But Nora was no longer thinking about eating out. “When your class is done, I assume you’re headed back home.”
“Of course—my home is in Denver.”
“But how will you see Tom then?”
Darla’s eyes held an unmistakable sparkle. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Sure,” Nora said. And she thought, from whom? She didn’t exactly have a lot of confidants.
Darla circled a knee with her arms, her fingers laced together. “We’ve talked about the future a little bit. Like the fact that Maxie deserves a restful, indulgent retirement. Someplace where she doesn’t have to work so hard or cook so much. Some sort of village for seniors where all the chores are done for her. Where she can relax and enjoy life more.”
“But Maxie loves the orchard,” Nora said, feeling a bit panicked at the very thought. “She loves to cook and garden and have tons of people around!”
“Please,” Darla said, laughing. She threw a hand wide. “This look relaxing to you?”
Nora swallowed. “Maxie loves this. I can’t imagine Tom without her here!”
“Who says Tom is staying here? Look at him out there.”
He was a pure pleasure to look at, laughing with men from the town, flirting with their wives while he bagged up apples, turning so they could admire the sleeping baby on his back. Everyone was going to be bone tired when this was over, but they’d be happy to have had all their friends together, their neighbors, their town, not to mention all the folks who came from much farther away every year.
“See how great he is? Tell me something—if he can sell apples with that little effort, imagine what he could do with a product that brings in tons of money.”
“They’re his apples,” Nora said quietly.
“Maybe not for long.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, we’ve talked about the possibilities of retiring Maxie, selling the orchard and settling in a city rather than the back woods. With Tom’s experience in business, his degree and his persuasiveness with people, he could do almost anything, but let me tell you—he’d be a natural in sales.”
Nora told herself there was absolutely no excuse for feeling like she’d been sucker punched. There was nothing between her and Tom except a friendship she was very grateful for. And he deserved to have a life—a wife, children, happiness. “So…you’re getting married, then?”
“Well, we’re certainly not engaged.” She held out her hands, fingers splayed, demonstrating no ring. “But just between you and me, I think it’s only a matter of time.”
“Congratulations,” Nora said, hating the weakness in her voice.
“Thank you,” Darla said, straightening a bit. She was proud of that—being in love with Tom, counting the days until he asked her to marry him. “Well, look, I’m sure you have to get back to work and I have a little reading to do. And, I want to change clothes before evening.”
Nora bit her tongue against asking why. Instead she told a huge lie. “Nice talking with you, Darla.”
“You, too, Norma.”
“No, it’s Nora.”
“Oh,” she said on a laugh. “Right.”
* * *
Sunday at the orchard was a repeat of Saturday with lots of people turning out, and in most cases not the same people. The big difference for Nora was that her dad and Susan brought the little girls, watched them, napped them, fed them and did all that while meeting half the town.
“Sunday afternoon is my regular day to visit Nora and the girls,” she heard Jed tell someone. And, “Yes, you have it right—we were estranged for many years but by good fortune and Reverend Kincaid, reunited. Bitter divorce—I’m sure you’ve heard of such things.”
She just smiled to herself when she overheard him. He didn’t seem to have any shame or blame,