“We’ve been stepping out together for a few years. Not my fault you never noticed or asked.” Her dad avoided eye contact, but Mrs. Dibble winked at her and patted her dad’s arm.
How had Sanna missed that? She thought Mrs. Dibble might have had a crush, but it hadn’t occurred to her that feelings went both ways. She smiled at her dad—good for him. He deserved someone as kind and loving as Mrs. Dibble . . . as Eileen.
“So, are you going to explain what we’re doing today or what?” her father said.
The three of them followed Sanna to the beginning of the process.
“We have three stations set up. The first is for washing. The apples go into this large trough, where they get washed. Any rotten ones will sink, so the clean, good apples can move to the second station.” They walked to a conveyor belt moving apples toward a huge funnel six feet above the ground. “The apples go into the apple mill, where they are crushed into tiny pieces, called the pomace, or pa-moose, as Bass likes to say.” Sanna smiled when she said his name. She pointed to the bottom of the funnel where a black hose stretched toward the third station. “When we’re ready to press, we use this hose to fill the press with pomace. I have a hydraulic press I’ll use inside the shop, but for the party we’re using this one. It’s the bucket press the L1s used. The pomace goes into a bucket, then a flat plate presses down to squeeze out the juice when the large screw is turned. When the juice slows, we dump out the used pomace and start with the next batch. The collected juice is dumped into storage containers and put in my cooler.”
The boys took turns twisting the screw, showing off their strength and making muscle poses.
“I’m very impressed, dear,” Mrs. Dibble said, patting her arm. “Make sure to get some chili before it’s gone.” She walked off with Einars to where Sanna’s nieces scooped apples out of the water to send up the conveyor to the mill. Even they looked like they were having fun.
“It really is amazing,” Isaac said.
Sanna turned to face him, her glowing smile warming him in the chilly fall air better than the sunlight. Over the last couple of weeks, they’d spent every spare moment they could in each other’s company—occasionally sneaking around like teenagers through the orchard. He’d told her all about his marriage to Paige and her tragic addiction. Sanna had shared her painful history with her mom. Every moment was a stolen drop of bliss. He needed to talk to her privately, and soon.
As he reached for her hand, a woman he’d never seen before appeared by their side. She was petite and casually dressed in jeans, a green sweater, and a quilted black vest. Her light brown hair was pulled into a ponytail. Isaac noticed Anders walking toward them at a slow pace, but ready to spring in case he needed to get there quicker.
“Sanna.” Her voice was soft.
Sanna stiffened when she noticed the small woman. Anders sped up to stand by Sanna’s side, Einars hobbling behind with a cane.
“Mom? What are you doing here?”
“I like to see what I’m investing in before I put money down.” Her eyes looked at all the people helping out her daughter. “This is impressive.”
Her mom waited for Sanna to say something. Even though she was easily a foot shorter than Sanna, she held her gaze steadily.
“Susanna, maybe we . . .” Einars started to say, but didn’t finish.
“This is just for the party. Let me show you the real operation,” Sanna said, waving over Eva to join them and leading the two other women into the barn.
Anders hovered near the barn entrance in case he needed to intervene, and Einars tottered back to Mrs. Dibble—content that he’d done his part to maintain the peace.
Isaac motioned for Bass to join him by the mill, and he raced over, his shirt covered in apple chunks and wet from spilled juice. Some things never changed.
“I spoke to Einars earlier. We’re going to head home tomorrow. It’s time. You ready?”
Bass looked over his shoulder at the Dibble boys.
“I’m going to miss them, but I miss home more. It’ll be good to see my friends. And to see Grandma again.”
“You can chat with them whenever you want, I promise. And Grandma can’t wait to have you back.” Bass’s face brightened. “Now get back to work, and try to keep some of the apples in the bucket.”
Speaking of his mom, Isaac should probably let her know they would be home soon.
We’re heading back tomorrow. We should be home on Tuesday or Wednesday.
Her reply was instant.
IT’S ABOUT TIME!!!!!! TELL BASS I’LL MAKE HIS FAVORITE CUPCAKES. I’LL PUT SOME GROCERIES IN YOUR FRIDGE, TOO.
Thanks, Mom. See you soon.
LET ME KNOW WHERE YOU’RE STAYING EACH NIGHT. LOVE.
Leaving felt more real now that it was in writing. He just had to tell Sanna. It was her one request.
Sanna emerged from the barn with her mom and Eva, who both joined Anders at the food table.
“You okay?” Isaac asked.
Sanna looked at him and her blue eyes shone.
“I am. I don’t know if we’ll ever be close, but I understand her a bit better. It means a lot that she came here. Her setting foot on the orchard is the redwood of olive branches. I’m not going to take her money, though. It doesn’t feel right for her to be tied down in any way to a place she hated—at least not yet.”
Isaac hugged her. “It sounds like you’ve found some common ground. I’m happy for you.”
Isaac took a deep breath. It was time to tell her. He took her hand, still chilly from the barn, and led her back into its shadows, so they could be away from the crowds and nosy neighbors. He stopped in front of her workbench, where this had all begun, the window finally repaired with his and Anders’s help.
“I need to say something to you. Something I’ve been dreading.” Sanna crossed her arms. He loved how she could say so much without words. “Bass and I are going to be leaving early tomorrow. You said you wanted to know just the day before. It’s time.”
She dropped her hands and pressed her lips tightly together. After a moment she spoke and took his hand.
“I assumed it would be soon.” She smiled. “Come to my room tonight?” Sanna’s voice cracked.
“Yes.” He didn’t trust himself to say more.
She squeezed his hand and walked back into the party.
He took a few moments before following her out, joining Einars at one of the tables.
“You tell her?” Einars asked.
“Yes,” Isaac said.
“You know you can come back anytime, son.”
Isaac smiled.
“It would be fun to come back for a visit. Bass would love that.”
“I’m not talking about a visit. California might not be what it once was for you.” Isaac opened his mouth to respond, but Einars silenced him with a hand and continued. “I know you have a lot of things to settle. I just wanted to let you know you have a job and a home here if you want one. Whenever you want one.”