Page 58 of Fighting

Rich with emotion, Liam says, “Those are the original apple trees. When Grandpa took over the property, they didn’t even bear enough fruit to sell at the market. He reached out to other local farms and started a seed-swap network. That’s how we became connected to the Morgan and Hendrix families.” Liam beams a megawatt smile.

“What did they add?” Mateo pulls me closer, one arm banded around my midsection. He’s like my own personal seat belt, but warmer.

“Was it the flowers?” I wonder audibly.

That brings an appreciative laugh from Liam’s lips. “Dude, she’s good,” he says to his friend.

“That’s my Ivy Monster,” Mateo says, watching me with a sparkle in his eye.

Liam laughs. “They wanted to use plants that would serve as additional food sources. They tried mint, basil, chamomile, and chives that first year. No new trees—those cost a ton. Still do.”

“Smart business sense,” Mateo chirps.

“Would have been if it worked.” Liam shakes his head. “To answer your question, Nessa, those flowers are nonedible. Some are even poisonous to humans. It’s tansy and Comfrey. They’re pretty, but you have to know how to handle them properly.”

Mateo tickles my side, though he keeps his face neutral as he says, “Ironic thatpoisonfixed the problem.”

I give him a side-long glance.Poison ivy—professional fixer.

“The goal was to fight off apple scab and pests, and they succeeded. Even if it wasn’t how they originally imagined doing it.” I swear if a voice could wink, that’s what Liam’s did. Like the guys are in on this together.

As I lean into Matty and listen,really, truly, listen even if the metaphor is frustratingly pronounced, something starts to shake loose in my chest.

“All that hard work by more than a few generations, and your brother is willing to sell your family history to the highest bidder? Even if it means destroying your legacy?” His lip curls in disgust, though his tone more questioning than declarative.

I let the words sit. I want to say so much. I want to scream about the injustice. I want to call his brother a massive douche canoe. I want to let my anger at the Calebs and the Jims of the world lead this moment. But I’m grounded in the present by the man beside me. The one who shows a deep love and respect for his family and their sacrifice—and surrounds himself with like-minded men. A tingling sensation erupts throughout me as the hairs along my arms and the base of my neck rise. That voice that has been trying to warn me to run even jumps in, taking me in a new direction. She says,Nessa, these men are more like Aba than your ex or your clients’ partners.

A few rows of bushes and trees farther, the cart slows to a stop.

“All right, this is your stop,” Liam says, giving Mateo a look I can’t quite read.

The silent conversation that passes between them is ended by the golf cart’s engine turning over noisily.

“I’ve got one more item to grab while I’m out this way. Be back in a bit.” Liam winks, then he speeds away.

Silently,I stare down at where my hand is engulfed in Matteo’s and decide not to pull away.

We amble down the row of trees until we find a large empty basket waiting at the aisle cap.

“While we’re alone, can you please tell me why you’ve been playing hot and cold with me?” Mateo exhales, then pulls his shoulders back, resolute.

As we walk, I focus on my breathing, fidgeting with the ring on my free hand.

“Nessa.” It comes out like a whisper. Concern and confusion lace the soft tones. “What happened between us?”

My heartbeat ticks up a notch, and I can feel his scrutiny as he takes in every slight twitch I try to suppress.

I’m too warm, so I tug on my sweater, desperate to feel the early fall breeze. I kick at a fallen apple, then finally force myself to look at him.

“Well,” I start, nerves skittering through me. What do I want him to know? Heart pounding a little too hard, I say, “Do you remember the joke you made the summer before we started high school?”

“I made a lot of jokes,” he says, brows furrowed.

With a groan, I say, “The joke was ‘do you know why Jewish girls give the best head?’ but it has a bunch of different punchlines. I can’t tell you which one you used, but I can tell you about the summer leading up to it and what happened after you said it.”

I drop my shoulders, detangling our hands, and step to the side so I can take him in fully as I unload this story.

“You probably don’t remember, but that year, when I went to camp, I left without…” I look down and wave a hand in front of my chest. “These.”

---