Sour Apples Read Free Page A

parcel.”
    “You said the records are scattered all over? Not at town hall?”
    He smiled ruefully. “You’ve seen town hall—it used to be a mansion for some people from Boston who came out summers to enjoy the country air. It was never intended to be a municipal building. There are a lot of files shoved into the basement, which at least is dry, but I have a feeling that what I need to check goes back quite a ways. We’ve put the archived documents wherever we can find space, much like the Historical Society does. It’ll take me a few days to track down whatever went on with that field. Since the town owns it, there must be some kind of story behind it.”
    “Have you known Joyce long?” Meg asked, getting up to freshen her cup. “You want more coffee?”
    “Please.” Seth held out his mug as Meg poured. “Not that long. Neither she nor her husband grew up around here, but she knows the area pretty well. She did her homework when she picked her location, and she’s got a good local reputation for her milk. You’ve probably eaten some of her cheese at Gran’s.”
    “I’ll have to ask Nicky the next time I’m in the restaurant.”
    “Speaking of using land, have you considered my offer?”
    “Which one?”
    “I’d be happy to let you use some of my land to expand your orchard.”
    Meg had been putting off giving Seth an answer because she was torn. In part it was a business decision: did it make financial sense for her to expand? If so, how much? It had taken a while to get the numbers assembled and to review them with Bree, and the answer had been a tentative “yes” to the expansion. But the more complicated issue was, did she want to enter into that kind of commitment with Seth? She’d only just started to really feel like they were dating…using his land for a long-range purpose felt akin to making a public statement that they were together for the long haul. And although Meg was cautiously optimistic about the relationship, she wasn’t quite ready to make that kind of declaration. Still, whether or not to expand the orchard was something she would have to decide soon, before the window for planting closed.
    “Let me get back to you on that, okay?”
    Seth eyed her a minute before he shrugged and said, “Okay. It’s up to you, and I have no other plans for the land. But I’d like to see it put to good use.”
    Was he disappointed? “Let me talk to Bree about it, now that we know what’s survived the winter. So, anything else going on?” she said to change the subject.
    “There’s the Spring Fling this weekend.”
    “The what?”
    “Oh, that’s right—you were a little preoccupied around this time last year. It’s a party that we hold each year to celebrate the arrival of spring, since by now everybody’s usually got a serious case of cabin fever. It’s not fancy—we hold it in the high school gym—but we’ve got a good localcover band who plays the kind of stuff most people like, and there’s food and dancing, and raffles and prizes. Half the town turns out. Will you come?”
    “Are you asking me to be your date?” Meg tried to keep a straight face.
    “Of course. But my mother may tag along to chaperone.”
    “Well, then, I guess it’s a good thing I like your mother.”

2
    “Are you going to the Spring Fling, Bree?” Meg asked at breakfast on Saturday.
    Bree snorted. “Who came up with that idiotic name, huh? And why would I want to go? From what I hear, it’s just a bunch of old fogies like you, and a band that plays songs that were popular before I was even born.”
    “Gee, thanks—I’m not even ten years older than you. But you could look on it as public relations for the orchard. Or are you trying to say that your boyfriend can’t dance?”
    “Michael may call it dancing. I think he looks like a stork with epilepsy. Can Seth dance?”
    “I haven’t got a clue—I’ve never seen him dance. If I had to, I’d guess he’s more of a shuffle-your-feet