Page 19 of Pumpkin Patch Pack
Less worry smell now.
Big warm Liam leaves. Apple girl needs Maple comfort tonight.
Inside, Maple investigates. Soft thing perfect for chewing like big purple stick.
That was fun. Apple girl and big warm Liam. All of us playing. And running. Best day.
Apple girl goes to big soft sleeping place. “You’re welcome to stay there or join me,” she says.
Maple hop onto big soft sleeping place. Circle once, twice, three times… must make comfortable. Settle at apple girl’s feet where can protect.
Apple girl’s breathing slows.
Worry smell fades.
Maple happy.
Sleep time now.
8
Emma
Aweek into my new job,Harvest Home Farm’sInstagram following has grown from seventeen to over five hundred. It is not viral, but it is respectable progress for a small farm account in such a short time.
I scroll through the engagement metrics on my laptop, a small surge of pride warming my chest. This, at least, I can control; the perfectly framed shots of dewy pumpkins at sunrise, the time-lapse video of the hay stack slide construction, the candid of Theo arranging a display of gourds that showcases both the product and his infectious enthusiasm.
I’m good at making things look appealing and crafting narratives that draw people in.
At least this part of my life makes sense. I can turn a goat wearing a tiny hat into viral content, but apparently, I can’t figure out why my suppressants are acting like expensive sugar pills.
The dull throb behind my eyes that’s been present since I woke up intensifies as I squint at the screen. I rub my temples, willing the headache away. It’s probably just eye strain from staring at the laptop too long, or maybe the change in weather—the morning had dawned misty and cool.
I reach for my coffee, but the normally pleasant aroma makes my stomach turn slightly. Everything smells… stronger today: the coffee, the scented candle Theo lit this morning, and even the faint earthy scent of the farm that drifts through the open window. It’s as if someone has turned the dial on my olfactory senses.
I reach for my patches. Still there. Dismissing the thought, I focus back on my work. The farm opens to the public this weekend, so I need to finalize the opening announcements and prepare content to capture the first visitors.
The slight scent of cinnamon announces Theo’s presence before his cheerful voice does.
“Productivity incarnate!” he declares, setting a plate beside my laptop. “I come bearing sustenance for the social media sorceress.”
The plate holds what appears to be a slice of apple cake, still warm from the oven. Under normal circumstances, my mouth would water at the sight. Today, the sweet smell is almost overwhelming.
“Thanks, Theo,” I manage, offering a smile that I hope doesn’t betray my discomfort.
He pulls up a chair beside me—close but not crowding—a respectful distance that I’ve come to appreciate about him, despite his extroverted nature.
“So,” he says, gesturing to my laptop, “how’s our online empire coming along? Rowan mentioned the engagement metrics are way up.”
“They are,” I confirm, grateful for the professional topic. “We’re seeing good growth across the platforms, especially Instagram. The content calendar is filled through the end of October, and I’ve scheduled posts for the opening weekend.”
Theo’s enthusiasm is palpable as he leans forward to look at the screen, bringing a delicate waft of cinnamon. “This is amazing, Emma, seriously. We’ve been trying to boost our online presence for years, but neither of us had the knack for it.” His eyes crinkle with genuine warmth. “You’re exactly what this place needed.”
The compliment warms me. It’s been a long time since anyone valued my professional skills… since I allowed myself to value them. In the months since fleeing my old life, I’ve been so focused on remaining invisible that I’d forgotten what it feels like to be appreciated for something other than my omega status.
“I’m glad it’s working out,” I say, then wince as another throb of pain pulses behind my eyes.
Theo notices, his smile fading to concern. “Hey, you okay? You look a little pale.”
