Page 66 of Big Island Weddings
“You should come back to the farm and teach a class on cooking with local food,” he said.
“My neighbor gets all the credit for that one. She runs Island Grown Meals.”
“She made the muffins?”
“She did.”
“I wonder if she would be willing to teach a class.”
“I think she already has more work that she can comfortably handle, but I’ll ask her.”
“You know what they say. If you want to get something done, ask a busy woman.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, lazy people will just put it off. But a really industrious person can usually manage to knock out one more thing.”
“She’s industrious all right.”
“And you?”
“Me?”
“What do you do with your time when you’re not studying permaculture?”
“Beyond my constant battle with weeds, you mean?”
“There will be a lot less of that once your food forest is established.”
“So you say,” Emma teased. She popped the last bite of ‘ulu muffin into her mouth and thought about the new life she had made for herself. “Taking care of the land and the goats is a full-time job. I also homeschool my son, though that’s a bit easier now that he’s at Pualena Playschool three days a week. Right now, it feels like any timethatfreed up is going to Juniper.”
“She’s your niece, right?”
“Right. She’s very independent, but I try to make sure I’m at least available to her. It helps that we both like growing things. She’s taught me a ton about herbs, and we both learned so much in your classes.”
“She’s an extraordinary young woman.”
“She really is.”
“But then, she has an extraordinary woman as a role model.”
Emma’s stomach flipped unpleasantly, trying to reject the food she had just eaten. She stood and stretched, turning her face up to the sun.
“I can’t take credit,” she said over her shoulder. “My brother raised her, and my sister Toni took care of her the past year or so.”
Keith stood too. “Ready to head back?”
“Yeah.” Emma set off down the narrow path, walking double speed now that she wasn’t fighting the incline. She set such a fast pace that she was soon breathless again, and Keith didn’t try any more first-date questions.
The trail leveled out just before it reached the little dirt parking lot where they had started their hike, and Emma had her car door open before she turned to say goodbye.
“What are you doing for dinner tomorrow?” Keith asked. Unlike Emma, he wasn’t out of breath at all. “I could cook us up a foraged feast with what we found today.”
“No. Thank you.”
“Okay.” He looked down, scuffed at the dirt with one hiking boot, and glanced back up again. “No to tomorrow, or no to seeing me again?”
Emma sucked in a breath and squeezed her eyes shut, summoning her courage.
