Page 31 of A Second Chance

“I’m offering to take you to a restaurant, and you’re picking a food truck?”

“There’s nothing wrong with a food truck.”

“Nope,” he said, closing the truck door. “What sounds good?”

“I’m not sure. Let’s look.”

Side by side, they headed back to the festival, his hand brushing hers, and lingering. She slid her hand into his as they entered the gates. His hand was warm against the setting chill.

“How long has the town been having a Harvest Festival?” Gwen asked.

“It’s been years, but only the last few where it’s gotten this big. As a kid, we used to go to the fair in Knoxville for the rides. We didn’t have that here. You’re from East Tennessee, right? Did you go?”

She never considered herself from anywhere and shook her head. “I spent most of my early childhood in a commune, and the rest of the time traveling because of my mom’s job.”

“Commune? Those still exist?”

“A few, yeah… Not as many.”

“Did you have electricity?”

“Do you wear shoes?”

He laughed. “Point taken.”

“We weren’t Amish.” Gwen stopped and took in the sights and smells of the food trucks, all parked in a semicircle around a makeshift food court of fold out tables and chairs. Bulb string lights hung overhead from truck to truck and another light pole.

“Last stupid question,” he said.

“I doubt that,” she quipped.

This time he stuck his tongue out at her, and she laughed.

“Was it a cult?”

“No.” She rolled her eyes. “The Farm is a very famous commune. People still want to live there. They don’t take on many new residents, but they run retreats and workshops on farming and stuff. Mostly, their midwife program is well respected, and that’s what my mom does.”

“Fair enough.” He smiled at her, and a warmth rushed through her and she had to look away. “Ladies choice,” he motioned at the trucks.

After they had their food and sat, he asked. “Growing up in a commune, I guess you’re good at farming?”

“Hardly,” she laughed. “On the contrary, if it’s a plant, I can kill it. Gardening is the forte of my mom and sister.”

“You can create jewelry,” he said.

And hold down a steady job, and can long-term plan. It wasn’t fair to them to say such things aloud, but sometimes she felt like the only adult in the group. Avery grew up and held a job the store for three years. Who was she to judge?

“Are you okay?” he asked, the question brought her out of her head.

“Yeah,” she recovered. “I’m just enjoying the food.”

An expression flashed across his face and he opened his mouth, but he thought better of what he was about to say, and instead took a bite of his food.

“What?” she asked.

He shook his head, pointing to his full mouth. Maybe she shouldn’t press it. It was more than likely something inappropriate. But try as she might, she couldn’t figure out the dirty angle.

“I don’t get it.”

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