“We’re going to be here a while. Did you want to head back? You can take Elliot.”
“That would be great.”
The redness in her cheeks was gone. From the way she’d stormed back into the room, tightly controlled in her movements, he could tell something had happened between her and Thad, but she seemed okay now. Even relieved. Sanna dug in her jean pockets, then patted her back pockets. Her brows scrunched as she turned back to the waiting room. Isaac followed. She looked under all the chairs and poked in the cushions where she had been sitting.
“What are you looking for?” Anders asked.
“My keys.”
“What do they look like?”
“Keys.” Anders glared at her. “Two keys on a key ring.”
Anders joined Isaac, Bass, and Sanna to keep looking. Sanna stood and ran her hands through her hair.
“And you checked all your pockets?” Anders asked.
Sanna sighed but went through the motions of patting herself down, then paused as she hit the pocket on her plaid shirt. She reached in and pulled out the keys.
“And you want to run the orchard by yourself,” Anders said, and sat back down by his family. Sanna huffed and clenched her jaw instead of responding. She held the keys out to Isaac.
“Be good to him.”
As she set the keys in his hand, her fingertips grazed his palm. He resisted the urge to grasp her hand and not let go. Now wasn’t the time. But he could do everything in his power to make sure this woman didn’t need to sell her land that was clearly part of her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sanna stood in the hospital room doorway, watching her father’s chest rise and fall, an IV hooked up next to a blood pressure machine. His leg had metal rods sticking out of it, like an acupuncture practice dummy, and was elevated by a complicated set of pulleys from the ceiling. A faint pink colored his cheeks, so much better than the icy white right after the accident. Without his work clothes on, his body seemed thinner and frailer than normal—the hospital gown didn’t add any bulk to his lean frame. He was her only friend and the only person she had. Would he ever be the same again?
“Stop hovering and get in here,” Einars said. He opened his eyes.
Sanna slipped into the room and stood in the corner near a window, as far from the contraptions as she could be. Her eyes flitted to the sink and mirror, then the curtain and the laptop on a rolling cart. She read the dry-erase board that recorded the names of Einars’s nurses and his current medications. Near the bed were a faux-leather recliner and two more padded chairs, as if people were meant to watch the ill person like a television show. The aroma of hand sanitizer clouded the room as the air chilled her skin. She ran her fingers through her hair—it was getting too long and curled at the ends. Sanna looked everywhere but at her father.
“Sanna-who. Look at me.” Her eyes pulled to his, and she swallowed. “I’m fine. Really. Just a few broken parts that’ll heal up in no time.”
Sanna nodded and resumed her room scanning. Einars studied her.
“Something else happened. What?”
“All you need to know is Thad is an idiot.”
“Oh, I already know everything that happened with him. Mrs. Dibble saw me as they were wheeling me in here. She told me all about it.”
“How did she get to see you before we did?”
Einars coughed. “No one bothers to stop her, do they?” Sanna scowled. “Come here.” He patted the bed next to his good leg, and Sanna sat down. Einars took her hand in his. “Did that fool really propose? Today? At this hospital?”
Sanna focused on his face. If she did that, she could ignore all the machines and pulleys and pins sticking out of his leg.
“He actually used the word merger, Pa. As if that’s what would convince me. Though I suppose it’s better than trying to convince me he loved me.” She rolled her eyes.
“He’s not the one for you. He could never make you happy.”
“Idun’s is the one for me. That’s all I need.”
Einars squeezed her hand.
“Trees and dirt aren’t going to make you happy forever, dear one.”
“But they can’t up and leave me either.” She didn’t want to have this conversation with her dad right now. Sanna pushed her hair out of her face. “I just want you to get better.”
“Things will be back to normal in no time.”
“He’s not wrong about that, but he’s got some work ahead of him,” the doctor said as he came into the room. Anders entered behind him and shut the door. “As we talked about earlier, your father took quite a fall, but with some rest, time, and good rehab, he’ll be back to himself.”
“So, he’ll be able to help with the orchard?” Sanna asked.
“It isn’t always about the trees,” Anders mumbled next to her so only she heard.
“His body is going to need most of its energy for rehab and healing. I’ve written all the instructions down and I’ll print them with his discharge papers in a few days. He needs to heal and he’s going to be in a fair amount of pain for a while.”
“What’s the damage, Doc?” Einars asked.
“You sprained your wrist badly, cracked three ribs, and snapped your shin in two. And you lost a fair amount of blood in the process.”
Sanna tried to listen as the doctor talked about X-rays and casts, but instead focused on the reassuring beep of the heart monitor. It was regular, predictable, calming. Beep. Beep. She nodded her head in time with her father’s heartbeat. By the time Sanna watched the white coat disappear behind the privacy curtain near the door, she had her purpose back. She and her dad would get through this together, like they did everything. They were a team. Both Anders and Sanna turned toward their dad, but Anders spoke first.
“I’ll stay to help get things in order.”
Sanna paused as she took in his words.
“Nothing is out of order,” Sanna said.
Anders clenched his jaw.
“Fine. Then I’ll stay to help keep them in order.”
“How would you even know what order around the orchard looks like?”
“Sanna,” Einars said, his voice low.
“No, Pa. He hasn’t worked Idun’s in over fifteen years. He won’t know how to do anything.”
“Have trees changed how they grow?”
Sanna narrowed her eyes and turned back to her dad.
“Your brother can help with the paperwork and accounting, I’ll keep him out of the trees,” Einars said. He patted Sanna’s back, but he may as well have put a knife in it.
Anders smirked, and Sanna wanted to slap the satisfaction off his face. He had no business in any orchard matters.
“Stay out of the barn.”
“I wouldn’t dream of upsetting your precious cider hobby.”
Sanna faced her dad, widened her eyes, and tilted her head, hoping he’d understand that Anders was going to cause more problems than help, but he closed his eyes and leaned back into the pillow. Sure, the doctor had said he’d be fine, but so many things could go wrong. He could get an infection or a blood clot. He could fall again during rehab and make it worse. She remembered an article somewhere about a stray shard of bone getting in the bloodstream and traveling to the heart, causing instant death—or maybe that was a book. Her quarrels with Anders didn’t matter when compared to all the possible complications. She would drop the argument and settle in to watch him tonight.
Anders cleared his throat, and Einars opened his eyes again.
“I heard from Eva Drake again,” Anders said.
“She knows what I think,” Einars said.
“Who is Eva?”
“No one you need to know about,” Anders said at the same time that Einars said, “Some woman from Wild Water Works who I’ve already told to go away.”
Sanna glared at Anders.
“Why are you even bringing that up again? I told you no. Pa told you no. The matter is settled.”
“First, I wasn’t addre
ssing you, Sanna. Second, Dad should consider the offer, especially after this accident. This hospital visit isn’t going to be free.”
Sanna stiffened, gave her dad’s hand a squeeze, stood, and walked out of the room. As she left, she heard Anders say, “Why do you still let her get whatever she wants?”
She didn’t need to hear any more.
• • • • •
Sanna hadn’t thought her grand exit through until she had gotten out of the hospital doors. Isaac had taken Elliot home, so she had no ride. Luckily, the upside of being raised in a small community was there was always someone you knew nearby. Before she could even turn around, Mrs. Dibble had walked out the hospital doors and had offered her a ride back to the orchard. In addition to witnessing Thad’s bended knee debacle, she had dropped off a care package for Einars with the nurses, containing items he’d need overnight, like a toothbrush and deodorant—something she’d never have thought to do. At least she let Sanna think in silence during the ride home. She may be a gossip, but she knew how to stay quiet when it counted. When they pulled up to the house, Elliot waited in the parking lot.
As she left the car, Mrs. Dibble piped up.
“I’m glad you said no to Thad, dear. That fall couldn’t kill your father, but having Mrs. Rundstrom as an in-law might have. Get some rest.”
Sanna blinked, mumbled “Thanks,” and shut the door. She’d been buffeted by so much today, she’d lost the ability to process. She needed to get to the Looms.
She found the keys to Elliot on the seat complete with a new addition—a green dragon keychain.
She picked up the tiny gift—her heart warmed by Isaac’s thoughtful gesture. It fit neatly in the palm of her hand, and a small button protruded from its back. When she pushed it, a light glowed from its mouth along with a tiny roar. A mini-Elliot for her big Elliot. She climbed in and started up the truck—it jumped to life.
During the car ride with Mrs. Dibble, she had looked up Wild Water Works on her phone. They were a development company from Illinois that paid handsomely for property to build water-park hotels. As of now, there were no such establishments in Door County and even Sanna, who knew next to nothing about business, could see that being the first would be lucrative indeed. All those vacationers who now hiked and biked in the state forests and along the bendy highways would spend their time zooming down giant tubes and sitting in bacteria-infested hot tubs. The Eva Drake woman whom Anders had mentioned was the daughter of the CEO. Her picture on the website tried to make her look dainty and defenseless, with short, blond hair and tasteful makeup on her perky nose and flawless skin. She clearly tried for a conservative look with dark clothing and minimal jewelry, but instead of making her appear professional, it made her look hard. Sanna didn’t trust her one bit.
She eased Elliot to a stop when she reached the Looms, killed the engine, and hopped out. From the bed of the truck she pulled a red wool blanket, faded from so many years in the back of her truck and soft from so much use. She spread it under the branches of the sprawling Rambo, sunlight filtering through the gaps. Sanna lay on the blanket, propping her feet against the trunk and tucking her hands behind her head. A fat bumblebee flitted from wildflower to wildflower, and grasshoppers had started their summer song. Her heart rate slowed as her mind calmed down.
How had Anders gotten so distant from the orchard? When they were children, they’d weave through the trees, playing tag until their dad put them back to work trimming the branches for the upcoming season or wrapping tape around a newly grafted tree. They grew up planning which bedrooms their families would take over when they all lived at Idun’s together, but then he went to college and everything had changed. He only came home for holidays at first, and then that dwindled to just Christmas after he’d graduated.
And now he cared so little for their land that he wanted to sell it to developers. Cash out. Her heart squeezed tight at the thought of someone else sitting under this tree—or worse. What if they destroyed all her trees to make way for some monstrosity like that hotel? Marrying Thad would almost be worth it if it meant keeping her land. She shuddered at the thought.
She spread her arms wide, past the width of the blanket, and buried her hands in the long grass, stretching her fingertips to the cool dirt. Lying like this, she fancied she could hear the orchard talking to her, telling her about the apples, and what trees should be grafted next. She drifted and envisioned the orchard from above. She could see the scraggly trees where she lay now, and the tiny twigs of the newly grafted Honeycrisp trees on the other side of the orchard, and the precise rows of the eating-apple trees—well groomed and trimmed for easy picking in the fall.
With her eyes closed, a new color spread across the back of her eyelids—a creamy white with a gentle red undertone. Her tongue started to wrap itself around the flavors as she smiled to herself. It would be dry, almost champagne-like, but with a late, sweet lilt of red apple, like a kiss on the nose. It would pair exceptionally with Parmesan, pasta, and a simple salad and it would be the perfect wedding cider, if she knew anyone getting married. She’d add it to her journal to start blending when she returned to the house.
“Hey.” Isaac’s voice shattered her solitude and she gasped, spinning around on her back like a turtle and rocking up to her knees faster than one would expect for such long limbs. She sat back on her heels.
“Sorry! I was worried I’d startle you, but it looks like I did anyway,” he went on. He stepped into the shade with her. She liked that she didn’t feel enormous near Isaac. “I saw the truck was gone, so I assumed you were back. I wanted to check in, see if there was anything Bass and I could be doing to help out.”
Sanna looked around for Isaac’s mini-me.
“Where’s Bass?”
“He was a bit off his game after seeing Einars this morning. I let him have his iPad for a few hours.” Isaac tilted his head to the side. “How are you? I thought you’d still be at the hospital.”
Those warm eyes nearly broke through the dam keeping her emotions in check. She wanted to tell him about how awful today had been, from the fall to the proposal. She wanted to trust that he would listen and say the right things, but she also knew she needed to get through this hurdle on her own. Relying on him would only end badly for both of them.
“It was leave or kill my brother. Too many witnesses and medical professionals at the hospital.” Sanna stood and picked up her blanket, ducking out of the branches and away from the urge to ask him to hug her.
“I didn’t mean to ruin your quiet time.”
“It’s okay.” She tossed the blanket in the truck. “I need to run to the grocery store. Any interest in joining me?”
While she wouldn’t spill her guts to him, she could let herself take comfort in his simple presence. For the first time in a long time, maybe ever, she didn’t feel like being alone. So it came as a relief when he responded.
“I’d love to.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Bass flattened his hair with the palm of his hand as he walked through the orchard toward the Lunds’ house, pulling a fistful down in front of his eyes. He could touch his nostrils with it. Crossing his eyes to focus on the end of his nose, he walked into a low-hanging branch. He rubbed where the rough bark left a scratch on his forehead.
He had written his mom a letter last night and his dad said he would mail it today, but with Mr. Lund getting hurt, he probably hadn’t.
He had spent the last hour playing games on his iPad, but without Wi-Fi they were boring. Half the fun was searching for new games to download. And he would have really liked to text his mom.
As Bass walked around the barn, a shiny black car was parked where Miss Lund’s truck normally was. He could tell it was a Mercedes by the hood ornament. No one was in the car, but it was still running. He looked around and heard rocks skitter, so he jumped back around the corner and watched a skinny blond lady in high heels totter across the parking lot, her ankles wobbling as she navigated the rocks. Who
was she? And why was she by Miss Lund’s barn? Before she got in the car, she turned toward the orchard and took photos. He pulled the small notebook from his back pocket and wrote “dark car, high heel lady.” He was going to write Mercedes, but he didn’t know how to spell it.
Behind him, he could hear Miss Lund’s old truck rumbling through the orchard, the metal bouncing and creaking. The woman got in her car and zoomed out of the parking lot before the green truck appeared. He stepped out from around the barn’s corner, ready to tell Miss Lund about the woman’s odd behavior. Maybe she knew the fancy lady and they were friends—but he couldn’t really imagine that, and his dad always said he had a great imagination.
But all thought of mentioning the woman evaporated from his mind when his dad opened the passenger’s-side door and waved for Bass to join them inside.
“Hop in! We’re going to the Pig.” Before Bass could say anything, Isaac continued, “I know, sounds awesome, right?”
It did. Of course, everything sounded awesome when stuck on an orchard with no people your own age. He liked Idun’s fine, but he missed his friends and baseball and Internet. Bass climbed over his dad and settled on the big bench seat between him and Miss Lund, excited to be going somewhere new and completely forgetting about the high heel lady.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
As they drove through Sister Bay, one of the many small towns on the bay side of the peninsula, Isaac watched as the passing fields and orchards were replaced by charming houses and quaint shops. Banners announced the upcoming weekend’s Fourth of July fireworks and brat frys. Bass leaned forward as much as his seat belt would allow with his head on a swivel, soaking up all the new sights. Isaac noted the location of a baseball field where they could hit a few balls. A few people waved as Sanna drove by but she didn’t wave back. Perhaps they were confusing her with someone else. By the time Elliot eased into the parking lot for the Piggly Wiggly, a squat white building, Isaac knew that wasn’t the case—too many people had taken notice for it to be coincidental.
The Simplicity of Cider Page 10