As Isaac and Bass watched her go—it was like she’d been saving up all the words since their arrival and now they had broken through the dam in her brain. Thad shifted in his seat and picked up a magazine—either used to this or he didn’t care. Either way, Isaac wanted to drag his callous taupeness out of the room. Sanna deserved better.
“I forgot to put the juice I was thawing back in the fridge. I hope it doesn’t go bad. Though the weather isn’t too warm. We could use a little more rain, but not much. Apples are sweeter when the rain accumulation is low. Did you know that? And where is Anders? He should be here. I texted him while you were getting the coffee, and Green Bay isn’t that far away. I wonder if he’ll help at the orchard or if—”
? ? ? ? ?
“Of course I’ll help, Sanna-who.” In ambled her brother, an inch or so taller than her, blond hair neatly parted on the side and trimmed. He had their father’s high forehead and sharp cheekbones. Every year that he aged, he looked more and more like Pa. Women always thought he was handsome, though she just saw the boy who used to dash through the orchard like Bass did now. He still wore a navy suit and golden tie, so he must have come straight from work in his Green Bay real estate office. He carried on like he sold high-end New York pieds-à-terre, instead of fifties ranches and suburban houses, but he seemed to be making a living if the new mini-palace he built last year was any indication.
Behind him trailed his wife, Julie, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulders, and their girls, Gabby and Sarah. All three of them wore summer dresses with pastel cardigans, like they’d popped off the cover of a Land’s End catalog. Julie pointed the girls to a corner and gave them both iPads to keep them distracted. Sanna hoped that meant they’d be unobtrusive.
She bent down to give her sister-in-law the quickest of embraces, never having truly warmed up to her. She was always so tiny and clean, with a perfect manicure and silky brown hair that ended in a precise straight line at her shoulders. Sanna envisioned her measuring it every morning to make sure each strand was the correct length.
The girls were miniature, spoiled versions of Julie. Already, they whispered too loudly about who got the iPad or the iPad mini, both wanting the larger one. Just once, Sanna would love to see them running through the orchard or stomping in a mud puddle, anything that might result in dirty hands and wild hair, anything that would prove them related to her.
Despite being annoyed with all the choices her brother had made in his life that had taken him away from her and Idun’s—where he hadn’t lived since high school—she loved Anders just as much as she always had. She stood and hugged him, relieved that he could help now with any decisions that needed to be made. He smelled like lavender and vanilla fabric softener, familiar and comforting.
“You made it,” she said, holding him by the arms.
“Of course I did.”
“You didn’t need to bring the crew.”
“Julie wanted to come and help.”
Sanna would have called bullshit, but she didn’t have the energy. For as long as they’d been married, Julie had wanted as little to do with the orchard as possible. She probably came to make sure Anders didn’t stay too long.
“How nice.”
She introduced everyone, Isaac and Anders meeting each other’s level gazes, Julie offering a limp hand, and the girls ignoring the adults entirely. Julie settled into a chair on the edge of her seat with her legs crossed and tucked beneath, like she was having an audience with the queen. Thad gave them both a hug like they were best pals. What was he even still doing here?
“What happened?” Anders asked.
“He was being bullheaded.” Having Anders there made her feel more like herself, like it would all be okay again. Like everything would go back to normal again soon.
“What’s new?” His ordinary opening salvo.
They settled into their usual polite conversation, which they’d perfected over the years to avoid their family hot-button issues.
“I finally got off the waitlist for Packers season tickets. You’ll need to come down for a game.”
“Of course I’ll come, when the fall winds down. Congrats, how long were you on?”
“I put my name down my last year in college, so fifteen years almost.”
“That’s not too bad. Sheriff said he was on for twenty-five.”
Sanna sipped her tea, searching for something—anything—neutral to discuss.
Apparently also running out of easy topics, Anders got to the point: “So how did it happen?”
“He climbed up a ladder to fix a broken window. I think he sliced his hand on a shard of glass, then lost his balance. There was so much blood. I’d never seen him so pale. He knocked himself out on the fall, thank God. And all this after he hired Isaac, claiming he was too old to do everything himself anymore.”
“I wondered about all the extra people. I guess that makes sense, but I doubt Idun’s can afford labor this early in the season.”
Sanna bristled at the criticism, aware of Isaac’s eyes on her, though he was holding a magazine.
“The orchard is fine.”
“No, it’s not. It hasn’t been for years. If you helped with the books, you’d know.”
“You don’t help with anything, what do you know?”
“I know that we could all retire tomorrow if we sold that land.”
Sanna gasped and her hand twitched, ready to smack that ridiculous idea right out of his head. Thad set down his magazine, suddenly rapt.
“Keep your stupid ideas to yourself. We aren’t selling.”
“Why not get out while we can make some money? Before you two run it into the ground,” Anders said.
“You know nothing. You haven’t touched a tree in ten years and have no idea what or how we’re doing.”
“I know you’re playing with your cider while a seventy-year-old man is climbing ladders and injuring himself.”
Heat burned the tears in her eyes before they could fall. How dare he question how they ran the orchard? He got his annual check of the profits, he should have nothing to complain about. It kept his family in the latest Apple products—the closest the girls came to the family business.
Anders softened his voice and put a hand on Sanna’s shoulder.
“I know you love it, but you can’t keep going. It makes sense to sell while there is good money on the table.”
Sanna pushed his hand off.
“What do you mean good money? What aren’t you telling me?”
Anders shook his head and closed his eyes, and Sanna knew he hadn’t intended to share that bit of info.
“I’ve gotten an offer.”
“Why did an offer go to you? You don’t even live in Door County.”
“Wild Water Works had their representative reach out to Dad, and he told them where they could shove the offer.” Sanna smiled, enjoying the vision of her familiar, feisty father. “They contacted me in the hopes I could be more convincing.”
“How did they even find you?”
“I’m listed on paperwork filed with the county. After that, I’m easy to find—I’m in real estate—my contact number is everywhere.”