“Thanks.” He drank it down.
“My dad’s back. Maybe. He reached out this week.”
“How’s that feel?”
“No idea. I was worried about my mom, but apparently, she never really cut him out of her life. He had… he had… issues, demons, I guess, not really my story to tell. But he reached out to me about five years ago. He wanted to explain. I wasn’t ready then, but my mom had been in communication. They never officially divorced. She’d kept him on her insurance so he could get… help, and this is getting way too heavy.”
She ran her fingers along the warm, tanned skin of his forearm and briefly encircled his wrist.
“Families are our strength and sometimes our weakness, but rarely easy,” she said, thinking of the tense conversation she had ahead of her with her parents. “I’ll test the jam again,” she said, her voice as thick as the jam looked, and as she dipped in the spoon, the drops were more viscous—thick and heavy and running together before plopping off the spoon.
“It’s ready.”
“Great.” Jackson seemed determined to stay in the moment—no more heavy family reveals—and that was probably safer for them both. “What’s next?”
They ladled the jam into the jars, and she showed him how to remove the trapped air bubbles, adjusting the levels, cleaning the jars before centering the lid and applying the screw band.
“I thought jam had more stuff like pectin or something.”
“It often does. This is Maye Old-Fashioned Summer Raspberry Jam with a personal twist, although G. Millie only made jams and sauces and elderberry wine with fresh berries, but raspberries are another month away at least.”
“Next year you could use a greenhouse to boost growth. Storm and I could build you one. There’s room.”
She’d already noticed that and had calculated the costs and need.
“Yeah,” she admitted, smiling. “But I’m trying to take it slow. Not jump all in immediately and throw money around.”
“Yeah, because Mayes are known for being subtle and small in their business ventures.”
She flicked a tiny bit of cooling jam that clung to the spoon at him. It hit his cheek, and he swiped at it with a forefinger and sucked it off.
“Jackson-approved.” He made googly eyes at her. “Did you use the magic book? Will I succumb to your feminine charms?”
“Don’t have many, so I think you’re safe.”
“Still, I’d imagined something slightly more epic when I agreed to this venture. Fog rolling in. You stirring a bubbling cauldron. A black cat flitting around our ankles. I see the book is propped up in a place of worship with its own holder by the stove.”
Meghan laughed. “There are cats around the property although with Whiskey around, they’re likely hiding. And there’s always hope Jessica and Storm will find a cauldron on their vintage buying trips, although I’m sure she’d flee on sight and make it to the next county before Storm could catch up to her.”
“You said this is practice.”
“If it’s good, I’m going to have these cute jars of jam as a thank-you gift for everyone who comes to the open house in two weeks. I thought I’d remind people that this was once the Cramer Mountain Farm.”
“And an excellent marketing opportunity for your side hustle.” Jackson smiled and fist-bumped her and made an exploding sound.
“I was feeling rather mercenary,” she admitted, “glomming on to Jessica’s event and making it partially about me.”
“It’s not about you. You’re making a delicious gift that people in the community will enjoy and working with your sister. People like buying local products,” he said. “You’re putting your stamp on the Maye legacy. I bet Miss Millie would have loved it.”
“I hope so,” Meghan said. “I didn’t have the guts to tell her that I was questioning my whole life when Jessica moved to the farm and started mucking about in the garden and repairing the greenhouses. I wasn’t ready to tell anyone, including myself, that I was envious and fantasized about joining her.”
Neither of them had been upfront with what they’d wanted for a time.
“I’m sure her spirit is here watching you and Jessica build a new future.” Jackson’s voice ran with confidence. “What’s next?”
Meghan knew he was asking literally, but figuratively she wondered.
Still, she clamped down her imagination and had him help her place the jars in the canner and return the water to boil. Jackson set his watch for five minutes right as Jessica texted Meghan that she and Storm had just cleared through the main gate, with a wink emoji.