Page 65 of The Shots You Take

“It’s not peak season for the market,” Riley said as they crossed the parking lot.

“I’ll manage my expectations,” Adam said, leaning into him slightly, hoping it seemed playful and not touch starved.

The market was housed in a large blue building that sort of resembled a barn but looked fairly new. The parking lot was nearly full, though it was only nine in the morning.

Once inside, Adam was instantly delighted. When was the last time he’d been to a farmers market? He’d been to a couple with Maggie, or maybe those were craft markets. This one had a table featuring local honey and another with smoked salmon and another piled high with fresh bread.

Farmers markets were fucking awesome.

He went to the honey table and picked up the largest jar they had. “You make all this yourself?” he asked the woman behind the table.

She laughed and said, “The bees do most of the work.” She was Black, probably a few years older than Adam, and was wearing actual overalls, like afarmer.

“Right,” Adam said, feeling stupid. “But you take care of the bees?”

“My wife and I do.” She pointed to a white woman with curly pink hair who was talking to a man at the table across the aisle from them. “You visiting?”

“Yeah. From Toronto.” He put the honey down. A giant jar of honey would never be permitted in his carry-on suitcase. “I’m visiting my friend…” It was then that he noticed Riley wasn’t with him. He glanced around and spotted him talking to three people near the entrance.

“Uh-oh. One second, ma’am.” Adam strode over to Riley with his listening ears on, making sure he wasn’t about to rescue his friend unnecessarily. After a few seconds of hearing an older woman, who probably meant well, tell Riley how awful his father’s death was for the town, Adam said, “There you are, Riley!”

“Uh, hi. Sorry, I was just…”

Adam turned to the woman who’d just been speaking, “I need his opinion on some honey.”

Riley’s brow furrowed, then he got it. “Right. Thanks. I mean, sure.” To the woman he’d been talking to, and her companions, he said, “Have a good morning. Say hi to Terry for me.”

As he walked Riley away, Adam said, “Sorry. I got distracted by honey. I should have done a better job running interference.”

“It’s okay.” As they approached the honey table, Riley said, “Hey, Bea.”

The woman—Bee?—smiled at Riley, then came around the table for a hug. “Aw, Riley,” she said. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too. Where’s Nell?”

“Getting me a coffee, or at least she’s supposed to be.” Bea said the second part loudly enough that her wife—Nell, Adam assumed—turned around and made a face at her.

“I’m going!” Nell said. “I just needed to ask Trent something.”

Bea shook her head, then turned back to Riley. “So who’s your handsome Toronto friend?”

Adam smiled, both at being called handsome and at not being recognized. “I’m Adam.” He extended his hand, and she shook it. “Is your name really Bea?”

“Yes. And the jokes have all been made, believe me.” She glanced at Riley, then back at Adam. “So, have you guys known each other…long?” She looked confused, which is how Adam puzzled together the fact that she and Riley must be close, and that Riley had never mentioned him.

“We used to be teammates,” Riley said.

Though his description was accurate, it was also kind of brutal. “Right,” Adam managed.

“Cool,” Bea said. “Welcome to Avery River, Adam.”

“I’ve been here before,”Adam wanted to say.“I used to look forward to summer so I could be here with Riley. I had sex with him here.”

Adam spotted the ornate candles at one end of the table. Nowthosecould probably travel in a carry-on bag. He picked up a tall, golden-yellow pillar candle with flowers carved into it and held it to his nose. It smelled like honey. Beeswax, right. That was a thing.

“Can I buy this?” he asked.

Bea’s eyes went wide. “Not that one. That is the cursed candle!”

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