Page 7 of There's Pumpkin About You
My eyes find Bash’s green ones, both of ours wide.
Logically, it works out for the better, but my pride doesn’t want me to admit that to her. It would help us out greatly—bring us business from Beckford whilst also leaving us with a new barn. Events would be a good way to utilize the space, especially during times that hold significance, like Christmas and Halloween. Plus, like she said, I won’t have to worry about delivery when I only have to let Mori pull the pumpkins from the field to the barn.
The only problem is…
“You seriously think I have money to fork out to pay for a new barn? Last time I checked, two employees on a farm didn’t exactly equal thriving.”
“I have tons of old paint from when I repainted my house. Plus, my brother, Finn, is a contractor. That means a major discount on flooring and wood, and I can ask if he and his team can help with the construction work.”
What I say next isn’t brought on by any agreement in logic, or by some sliver of excitement at the thought of a new barn. No, it’s her—that look of hope that sits on her face so clearly that even I can see it. Facial expressions and social cues are my biggest downfall, and yet I can read her so easily, like a book written in my language. I see the way she leans forward slightly with every sentence, how her voice rises in both pitch and volume. I see the excitement in her eyes, and the ability to give any other response slips away.
“Give me some time to think about it.”
It’s the first time since I met her twenty minutes ago that one of her smiles has been directed at me and I swear at myself for letting it happen. It’s a secret weapon of hers; it must be. That’s the only reason it can possibly be so disarming.
She jumps up from her seat with a new sense of purpose. “Really? Oh, my God, thank you so much!”
She pulls a sticky note and a pen from my table, excitedly scribbling on it.
“Here’s my number and my email. Whenever you make a decision just call me.”
She squeals and jumps and she leaves the room, hugging a confused Bash on the way out and I find it suits her more, this kind of excited chaos. It’s something I find equal parts annoying and endearing, and that alone makes me want to say no. But I need to think about the company…
So then why is she already wriggling her way into my mind?
ChapterFour
GUS
Two Weeks Earlier
“You’ll need to keep your arm in the cast for eight weeks to start off with. If your shoulder is healing slowly then we might need to keep it in a sling for another couple of weeks after that.”
Doctor Shakari speaks as she finishes up with the disgustingly orange cast on my arm, but her words go in one ear and straight out the other.
“I’ll book for you to come in in four weeks’ time so we can change it.”
I see her lean forward, hoping to catch my eye, but my gaze is fixed on the blue curtain that separates me from the rest of the emergency room. Focusing on something else sometimes helps me to block out the overwhelming stimulations of the world. It doesn’t help that I can see her in my peripheral, distracting me from the wall of sterile blue cotton. It doesn’t help that her brown eyes are looking at me with an embarrassing amount of pity, mahogany softening to a warm chocolate due to an idiotic sense of compassion since she knows the truth. She of all people knows why the pale blue in my eyeline is, in this moment, so important.
She offers a sad smile and my stomach twists. “I made it orange because I thought it would blend in with your work a little. You won’t have to think about it as much.”
The good doctor often makes the mistake of associating autistic with childish.
After several moments of silence, I see her nod slowly, thankfully accepting that I am not planning on talking unless she asks a question that requires an answer.
“Is there anyone who can help pick up the slack on the farm whilst you’re out of commission?” she asks softly.
I offer a stiff shake of my head. Apart from my brothers and I, there isn’t a single person left in this town to help out with the farm. No one in our small, closed-minded town is going to be bothered enough. They’d be much more content with being fucked off that their orders were not delivered on time.
She sighs whilst she cleans up and I take that as my sign she’s done. I only need to pull myself up from the hospital bed she sat me on, my legs long enough that my only option is to let them spread out in front of me. I pick up my plaid shirt from the bed and start towards the curtain.
“August,” Doctor Shakari calls. My hand pauses in front of the curtain and I tighten my grip on my shirt. I turn my head so she knows I’m listening.
“I’m sure if you asked around there would be people in the town willing to?—”
“Thanks for the patchwork, Doc.” And I leave her pointless words behind.
* * *
