Page 11 of Their Sweet Haven
“Rural life kind of runs together a bit. When the forest ends, there’s plenty of fertile fields for crops to grow. It’d be a waste not to use them.”
“You know, it always seemed a bit romantic to me. Back to basics. Tending to the land. Growing food. Feeding people.”
“It’s a lot of hard work. It’s far from as glamorous as... well, farming’s never been glamorous, but whatever glamour you think it has, it’s probably not as good as you think.”
“Oh, I know. My father’s got a lot of flaws, but he’s always warned me never to think that the grass is greener on the side. Even if in this case, the grass here is much greener than anything I’ve seen in Smithport.”
I smirk. “A lot of sunlight and less air pollution will do that.”
“Is all this owned by one guy?” he asks. I’m a bit surprised by his curiosity, but he’s a city boy. Probably has never been anywhere where a coffee chain wasn’t a five minute walk away. “Or has it been all taken over by big companies?”
“It’s about to be,” I say with a bit of resignation.
“About to be?”
“The Hendersons own this specific bit of farmland. The girl inheriting it all doesn’t want to continue the family business, so she’s trying to sell. She wants it to go to something that’s not a megacorp, but that’s the only buyer that seems to be interested.”
“I guess she’s tired of farm life and wants to go live in the city?”
“I don’t know her all that well, but from what I hear she came back from law school, and wants to get into politics. Probably easier to do that from the city.”
He strokes his chin. “I can oddly relate to that.”
We enter Evergreen Valley proper, and head toward my bakery. There’s quite a crowd around it, which is surprising given that the shop is currently closed.
The crowd of people, all from around town, are standing in front of my shop carrying handwritten signs on cheap cardboard. They read things like ‘FREE HANNAH’ ‘HANNAHS IS CLEAN’ ‘I NEED MY MUFFIN’.
“Didn’t expect to find a protest when I heard about this small, quiet town,” Elias says.
“I didn’t expect one to pop up on my doorstep.”
I pull my truck into its regular spot, and step out to the crowd. “We’re with you, Hannah!” one of them shouts at me.
“You must be a fixture in this town,” Eliass says as he digs a clipboard out of the truck and steps out behind me.
“I’ve run this bakery for five years. I took over for my aunt, who ran it much the same way for twenty years before that. And my grandmother, for who knows how long it was before that. It’sbecome a part of people’s lives to the point that they remember coming here as kids.”
Elias continues to stare at the crowd that’s here in support of me. “I didn’t think those places exist anymore.”
“They mostly don’t. But there’s always exceptions.” I head through the crowd. “Alright, everyone, thank you for your support. I’m trying to get it taken care of as soon as possible.”
I unlock the door, and enter. The shop is all cleaned up, just like it would be any other morning. Lavender and Melanie do good work.
“Take a gander. See if it meets your standards,” I tell Elias.
He proceeds to get to work. For someone who doesn’t seem to be too thrilled about his job, he takes it seriously. He’s being very thorough in checking everything, ensuring our storage is up to par, and double checking and confirming that, yes, we don’t have raw chicken breasts sitting out in the open.
In a bakery. That doesn’t sell chicken.
About a half hour later, after poking through everything, he comes back to the front of the shop. “Going to shock you here, but you’re clean as a whistle. Couldn’t find one thing that goes against Smith County code.”
“See, I told you. Me and my family haven’t been here for decades because we love giving people food poisoning.”
There’s a knock on the front door, and they don’t wait for a response before coming in anyway.
“Mr. Lawson, I’m surprised to see you out in the middle of nowhere.”
It’s Fred, the asshole who shut my bakery down in the first place. Elias looks at him, and it seems like it takes him a moment to remember who Fred even is. “Tom?” He takes a guess, and whiffs.
