I was stuck on the name Ben. He could be over there now. What would he think of me in comparison to Hunnie? She was making her dreams come true with the support of her family, and I was trying to find mine in spite of my family.
Heading back to the photos, I reached out to trace one of presumably Hunnie and her grandma. “I think we should add hints of red to your profile. Can we change up the color of your logo? I like the yellow, but it’s the obvious choice for honey, and I think we can do something more vibrant like jewel tones. Red, purple, navy . . . like this room. It will make the honey stand out. Especially in your pretty jars.”
Up until now, I was talking to the wall, but I turned and caught Hunnie taking notes. Her appearance might be all hippie-dippie, her personality a hundred percent Vermont-friendly, but the woman was a boss.
Turning back to the framed photos, I said, “We need to add your authenticity to the marketing, like you want to add that to the overall flavor of the experience. Something like this blend is dedicated to my grandma, who not only gave me my nickname but my business stickiness. As for the goats, I need time to think on that, but the honey is obvious. You’ve put all of yourself into these blends.”
Hunnie ran up from behind me and threw her arms around me from behind.
“Sorry, sorry. Yeah, we’re supposed to be professional women, but that’s just what I was thinking. I knew I’d like your big-city thinking. Thank you.” She stepped back and really looked at me, as if trying to see deep inside me. “What are you doing making coffee, Murphy Landon? You know what? Don’t tell me. We all have our shit. Just figure out your next step while helping me, okay?”
“Okay.”
Pulling her hair out of the bun, she shook her head left and right, her long brown locks falling loosely.
“That reminds me,” I said, frowning. “I’ve got to get back home and deal with my hair. I need a deep conditioning.”
Hunnie scoffed. “You don’t need a thing. You’re gorgeous.”
“Thanks, but some days . . . never mind. Tell me, should I mock up some social media posts for you?”
“That would be great, and for payment, the going rate is . . .” She leaned close to whisper the rate so only I could hear it.
“No one else is here,” I said with a laugh, “but yes, that’s great. I’m actually really excited about this. If it’s okay with you, I’ll snap a few pics on my phone that we could use on Instagram.”
Hunnie waved me off. “Go right ahead. I actually have to call a guy about the goats. Is it okay if I go do that on the porch?”
“Sure. So, Ben’s family has agreed to the petting zoo?”
“Actually, I don’t know,” Hunnie said, a smile in her tone. “But I’m going to bet on you helping change Ben’s mind about convincing his parents.”
I’d been looking at my phone, but I whipped my head up at that. “Me? I don’t know about that.”
“Oh yeah. There’s never been more of a sure thing than you two. The energy between you is like a roaring fire pit in the fall.”
Waving my hand, I said, “Go make your call.” I’d agreed to her payment terms and was jazzed about the work, but I didn’t need to subscribe to Hunnie’s ridiculous romantic notions.
I took a moment to absorb the vibes of Hunnie’s place and then stepped outside quietly, careful not to interrupt her call.
As I slid into the driver’s seat of my car, Hunnie shouted, “Wednesday is Fourth of July. You have plans?”
Closing my eyes for a second, I huffed at my own stupidity. “You know, I forgot,” I said across the roof of my car.
“Zara’s closed. Did you know that?”
I shook my head, more at myself than anything else. “I’m off, but I didn’t give it much thought.”
Hunnie grinned at me. “I bet you’re used to fancy barbeques and fireworks.”
“More like catered parties on the beach in the Hamptons, and private fireworks displays,” I said, feeling the need to be honest.
“Well, you’re not going to get that here. Maybe a couple of sparklers in someone’s yard, although no one wants to scare the animals.”
Swallowing my pride, I asked, “What do you plan to do?”
Hunnie gave me a huge smile. “I thought you’d never ask. My family usually builds a bonfire right over there.” She pointed her thumb over her shoulder toward a grassy clearing as she spoke. “We make hot dogs and s’mores, and usually drink some moonshine or boxed wine. My brother and his kids always come. His wife skipped town, so it’s mostly for the kids. Nothing fancy.”
I nodded, chuckling softly to myself.
“What’s so funny?” Hunnie asked. The woman didn’t miss a thing.
“I was just thinking that probably no one wears white shorts.”
“Definitely not, but you should come. We usually start around six. Come whenever.”
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“Come. Maybe Ben will see the fire and stop by. His parents usually have something over at their place with Branson and Brenna.”
“Thanks, I’ll stop by. Not because Ben might show up, but because I don’t want to be alone on the Fourth. So, thanks.”
“Great. See you then.”
I jumped into my car before I could say anything else, afraid I might cry.
I’m a long way from home, Toto.
12
Ben
As I drove over to my parents’ place on the Fourth of July, my phone rang. For a second, I wished it was Murphy, but we hadn’t exchanged numbers, and I was taking it slow as promised. It had also slipped my mind that the Bean would be
