12. Ethan

I'd liketo think I'm uncomfortable in the Lick Your Fork diner because it's a nice day and I could be out planting instead … but the truth is I'm antsy about this lunch meeting because I have to talk business with Lia, and I'm just not good about business.

In the fortnight since I gave her a ride, I haven't seen her but there's tons of evidence that she's been nearby. She's been leaving lists on my porch for me, with stuff like "check your email, for the love of god" and asking me about return on investment for specific brands of seed. I get all turned around with those details. I used to think Grandad was teaching me what I needed to know to run every aspect of Bedd Fellows Farm, but given our dire financial straits, I have my doubts.

So, I'm here, spinning my hat in my hands while I wait for Latonya to bring me another batch of coffee strong enough to put hair on her own chest. I'm early enough that I shouldn't be anxious for Lia to arrive. I wonder if she'll wear that diamond jewelry again, and who gave it to her. Definitely not Asher. Maybe her tastes totally changed over the years, and she bought it for herself. I don't like thinking about it, but I'm not about to ask her. It would be worse hearing her tell me she has a man back in the city.

The bell above the door rings and I can't help the smile that spreads across my face at the sight of her … but it's short lived. Lia's skin is paler than usual, and she has dark smudges under her eyes. "You look awful," I blurt as she makes her way to the booth and sinks slowly into the red vinyl bench. She winces. "Sorry. That was rude. But, Lia, are you okay? You don't look it."

She shakes her head. "This is normal for me. I'm just feeling a little off. I think maybe I ate some dairy yesterday by accident. Maybe Asher put butter in the pan while I was cooking us dinner."

I frown. "You'd get this sick from eating a little butter? That's intense."

Lia sighs. "I have an intense condition, Ethan. I tried to tell you that."

I hold up my hands in surrender. "I'm sorry. It didn't sink in with just words, I guess. Is there anything I can do for you? Should we meet somewhere else?"

Her face brightens as Latonya arrives at our table. "Oh, you're here, honey. I can't wait to hear what you think of the soup."

I arch a brow and Lia grins. "I called ahead, and Latonya made some changes to the soup of the day."

"Chicken and rice instead of chicken noodle." Latonya squeezes Lia's shoulder. "I'll be right back with a big bowl for you."

"That was nice of them to adjust." I don't know that I ever considered asking anyone to change anything about a menu item in my life, but I'm glad Lia was able to make sure she could eat here safely. Her entire demeanor shifts when LT slides a bowl of steaming food in front of Lia, freshly diced carrots bobbing in the broth with chunks of chicken I believe came from the farm where Alex works now.

Lia moans with pleasure as she sips at her soup. "Mmm. Oh my god, this is exactly what I needed."

I take bites of my daily special–a chicken salad sandwich–watching Lia inhale her soup and trying not to dwell on the effect her small groans of delight have on my groin. Lia takes a few more bites and slides her bowl to the side. "Okay. So first of all, you need to start checking email once a day, Ethan. You just do. Your grandma says you don't even have a Wi-Fi router in your cabin…"

I roll my eyes. "I don't enjoy any of that. When I check my email there's more junk than substance. Who has time to sort through diet pills and opportunities to win millions of dollars in bitcoin?"

"Are there any teenagers in town? Because I can pay a teenager ten dollars to set up filters and solve this problem for you, Ethan. Come on."

I take a bite of my lunch and wait for her to continue. The sandwich is amazing and so fresh. I should tell my brother I'm enjoying the fruit of his labor. Maybe I'll do that later.

"Anyway, when you do check your email, you'll see some invitations to join project management software. You stop me if it feels like I'm talking down to you, but I'm going to assume we're starting at square one."

"I need a square zero for that stuff." I wipe my hands on my napkin and reach for the little notebook I keep in my pocket.

Lia shakes her head and clicks around on a shiny electronic tablet. "I took my best shot at mapping out the farm's cyclical tasks, when they need to be done, what's involved, and who is the point person."

"Well that last part's easy enough. I'm the only person…"

Lia nods. "That's going to change, especially as we get close to the strawberry harvest. For now, I put myself down for a lot of the goal setting and strategy tasks."

"Goals? You mean beyond ‘grow a good crop and sell it at a good rate.'?"

We spend an hour going through what feels like an Intro to Business course. Modern farms get by with very few people, especially monoculture operations like Bedd Fellows Farm. But Lia insists we need to hire seasonal labor for the damn strawberry sales that we need to schedule to secure the community farming grant. People to manage and pay with money we don't have. At least with the pick-your-own setup we don't have to find people to harvest the actual fruit.

My stomach is tied up in knots and I don't know why other than this is a lot of change coming at me all at once. Lia does have a way of explaining it so it feels a bit less daunting, at least. "Is there any way to go into this gradually?" I scratch my neck, not holding much hope.

Lia pats my hand and I remember she's not wearing a ring on her left hand. Just that huge diamond glitter frosting on her wrist. Maybe there's still hope for us. I silence that thought as soon as it slithers into my head. I focus on the feel of her skin against mine instead, not that that's any better. Lia says, "The time for gradual was a few refinances ago, I'm afraid." She groans. "I didn't mean for that to sound disrespectful to Eugene. I will say, I wish I'd been aware that he was working with us. I would have discouraged him."

I bite the corner of my lip. "I was wondering if you knew he was borrowing that much and just never said anything."

"I would have done all I could to stop him, Ethan. I hope you know that. I just wasn't involved in this portfolio at all. I only happened to overhear a colleague discussing the situation and…" she shrugs. "I sort of begged my boss to let me try and turn this around. They were really ready to take the loss, foreclose, and move on."

"That doesn't sound like good business sense. How is that different from what Grandad did, taking a loss like that?"

Lia waves a hand. "Oh, they have formulas and prediction models for everything. I did manage to convince them that I could talk you all into the government grant applications, though. Those are sure bets if you can get them."

I furrow my brow and look at the notes I took. "But we aren't sure we'll get approved?"

"Not yet." Lia takes a bite of soup and pats her stomach. "I have confidence. Barring flood or insect infestation, I'd say we're on solid ground in that respect."

"You should knock on wood, Lia Thorne. You all but invited the plague of locusts."

She slides her empty soup bowl to the side and shoves a few bills on the check LT left for us. Lia assured me this is a business meeting and since our family is her client, she's supposed to pay. The company is the one paying, in fact. It eats at me, though, having her pay for my lunch while we're out together. I want to be the one paying for her, I realize. But it's no use wanting what I can't have.

Before I can ruminate further, my mouth forms the words, "Want to come over later and see something interesting?"

Her face brightens and I forget that it's a bad idea to pine for Lia Thorne. I forget that we're in dire financial troubles. All I want to do is show her our new invention.