Page 84 of Sweatpants & Sweet Tea

I glanced around and even stood up, looking for him, but realized he must have left. Or was it just a dream? A really vivid dream.

Either way, it was exactly what I needed. Because now I knew I was not getting on that plane. I loved Harlan Mitchell, and I needed to find out if he felt the same.

42

HARLAN

Daphne was gone,and she hadn’t said goodbye.

I shouldn’t be surprised. She told me that she hated goodbyes, and for good reason. Still, I was. Surprised and disappointed…probably more disappointed.

The more time passed, the more it sank in that she had just left. For some reason, I couldn’t believe that she would be able to leave town without saying goodbye. I’d tried to call her several times, but her phone just kept going to voicemail.

When I left the Moore Farm yesterday evening, I thought about booking a flight but immediately realized I didn’t have her address or even know what city she lived in. I walked back over to the farm, but Ms. Shaw said Miss Rhonda was asleep. She invited me in for some sweet tea, and I waited for about an hour to see if she woke up, but she didn’t.

I figured after class today, I’d go back over and hopefully get Daphne’s address and then book a flight to California. Once I got there, I’d just be winging it.

The timer on my watch went off, and I lifted the whistle to my mouth and blew.

“Okay, move stations!”

Each group of ten shifted as Weston walked up beside me. He looked like the cat that ate the canary.

“Everything good?” I asked.

Weston’s grin widened. “Have you seen the TikTok numbers? We’re up to five hundred thousand.”

In the short time since we’d brought on the social media expert and a manager, our engagement and followers had skyrocketed. Those numbers directly correlated to the quality of sponsorship and collabs we were offered. The higher-profile brands and influencers we worked with, the better exposure we gained, which led to more followers and better engagement. It was self-perpetuating. To say that I’d been leaving money on the table was an understatement. I had no idea the goldmine I was sitting on, and just hadn’t bothered to notice because I didn’t like social media.

And my business wasn’t the only one that was thriving. Yesterday, when I was having sweet tea with Ms. Shaw, she was singing Daphne’s praises, talking about what a huge difference her suggestions had made in Pretty in Peaches’ revenue. Her net profits were up by twenty percent.

Daphne had the Midas touch with people and businesses. Even though she’d only been in town for seven weeks, she’d made a lasting impression on everyone she met. She was the rarest of gems. One-of-a-kind. And she was gone. Even though it had been less than twenty-four hours, I felt her absence in the atmosphere. There was something magical missing.

I wondered if I’d be able to handle that missing magic long-term. Long distance meant only seeing her every other weekend if that. Was that enough? Would it be enough in a year? In two years?

My mind was distracted, and I didn’t notice that time was up, so Weston blew the whistle, signifying the final class was done. All morning, I’d tried to keep my head in the game, but it hadbeen difficult—nearly impossible. The only thing I could think about was Daphne.

As I watched everyone, including Weston, get into their cars and drive away, I felt empty inside. I looked around at the place that had always felt like home to me, and I realized it didn’t anymore. Maybe with Grandad here, but if he was really leaving and I was out here all alone, that would just be…lonely.

My head was spinning as I walked in the back door, through the kitchen, and found Grandad sitting in his recliner, Dini curled up on his lap.

“How were your classes?” he asked.

“Good.” I nodded and started up the stairs but paused. “Are you serious about moving into the boarding house?”

Even though I knew the answer, I had to ask. Grandad wouldn’t have told me his plans if they weren’t set in stone. He was old school. A man of his word.

“Sure am. It’s a lot cheaper than the retirement home.”

“But you don’t have to move.”

When his eyes met mine, I could see the sadness in them. “I do. This place isn’t home anymore. Not without your Meemaw.”

I took a deep breath. “How would you feel if I sold the farm?”

My heart was thundering in my chest. I didn’t want to upset him, and I didn’t even know if I would do it, but the thought of Daphne being in California and me being here just wasn’t sitting well with me.

Grandad’s expression remained neutral. The only thing that shifted was his bushy brows, which lifted a millimeter, not noticeable at all if I wasn’t studying him so intently. “Well, now, I s’pose that would depend.”

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