The Simplicity of Cider

by Amy E. Reichert

  “Who are all those people?” he asked.

  “What people?” Sanna looked around the parking lot as she pulled to a stop.

  “The ones waving at you as you drive by?”

  “I didn’t see anyone.”

  “This is not reassuring me about your driving skills.”

  Sanna shrugged.

  “Do you know them?”

  “They probably recognize the truck. It used to be Dad’s.”

  As they walked into the store, Bass grabbed a cart and went straight for a display of chips. Isaac noticed as the other patrons reacted to Sanna. Some, clearly tourists, paused as they took in her height, their heads visibly tilting back. She seemed to ignore them, but slouched down a few inches anyway. An older gentleman stocking tomatoes nodded to her in recognition. She nodded back and aimed their trio toward the deli counter.

  “Hey, Sanna,” the older woman behind the counter said. Her gray curls were tucked under a black hair net and her name tag read Bev. “How’s your dad?”

  Sanna sighed. “Mrs. Dibble told you?”

  Bev smiled and nodded. “She was buying him things he’ll need in the hospital.”

  “He’ll be fine assuming he doesn’t push it.” Sanna perused the case and pointed to each item as she spoke. “Can I get a pound of ham, a half pound of cheddar, and a large container of the broccoli salad?”

  Bev nodded but gave Isaac and Bass a glance, clearly curious about how they fit into the picture. Perhaps Mrs. Dibble hadn’t shared all the gossip. As they waited, Bass drove the cart around one of the nearby islands stocked with local cheese and sausages. Isaac reached out to stop the cart before he crashed into another shopper.

  “You know, Mrs. Dibble is the one who gave me your dad’s name to contact for a job. I’m assuming she’s the same?” Isaac asked.

  Sanna nodded. “Thank God there is only one Mrs. Dibble.”

  Bev handed Sanna her items, plus an extra container of shocking blue fluff: blue raspberry Jell-O mixed with Cool Whip. Bass waggled his eyebrows in excitement.

  “That’s on me,” Bev said when Sanna looked up at her. “Let us know if you need any help, dear.”

  “Thank you. I’ll let Pa know it’s from you.”

  They finished their shopping, filling the cart with frozen dinners and pizzas, jarred sauce and pasta, and hot dogs, plus a box of Pop-Tarts for Bass, who insisted on holding it in one hand as he pushed the cart with the other. As they checked out, the cashier gabbed about local goings-on while Sanna stared out the window.

  “I hear the fireworks are going to be the best yet. Bev said some company from Illinois contributed extra money. Looks like the rain they were promising is going to hold off, too. Maybe you can take your visitors? Show them how we do it up for the Fourth.”

  Even if Sanna didn’t seem to embrace them back, it was clear the locals thought of her as one of theirs. Isaac smiled at the man warmly as he took the groceries so Sanna wouldn’t have to carry them.

  Driving back toward Idun’s, Sanna clucked her tongue as she slammed the brakes when a family of four walked into the street, even though there was a crosswalk at the end of the block, then scowled at the construction of a hotel on the outskirts of town.

  “Not your favorite time of year?” Isaac asked.

  “There’s a reason I don’t leave the orchard much. Without visitors, we couldn’t keep Idun’s, but do they have to be so oblivious to the world around them? Most just cross the street without looking, eat at the fancy restaurants, and forget to look outside and see what’s right there.” She pointed at the rocky harbor and tree-lined shores. “They’re missing it.”

  “So winter is better?”

  “It’s a lot quieter. Some of the speed limits are bumped up—which is nice. I read a lot more. When there’s a blizzard, it can feel like you’re the only person left in the world. I miss the trees, but I do get to spend more time with my cider.”

  This was more like it. Finally, Isaac was getting to know her a little better. She was opening up.

  “Do you get so much snow you can’t open your door to get outside?” Bass asked.

  “Not recently. But I remember a few times when I was little, we would open the door after a big blizzard and it was a sheer wall of snow. The wind had blown just right to create a giant snowdrift. My dad had to climb out a window to get a shovel and dig us out.”

  “Baller.”

  Sanna shook her head and smiled at Bass’s reaction.

  “Baller, indeed.”

  Isaac wanted to hear more stories from her childhood—he wanted to know why he found her alone in the orchard instead of at the hospital with her dad, what she had ever seen in Thad, and why she so clearly preferred solitude when an entire county of people seemed to care about her. As she turned into the orchard parking lot, he noticed the small dragon keychain dangling from the ignition. So she’d liked it—he wasn’t sure she would. Pleasure that a little part of him was now in her life warmed his chest.

  • • • • •

  Sanna rolled the dingy sheets off the bed in the guest room, careful to keep the dust from jumping off the material. After doing the same with the ones covering the chair, dresser, and lamps, she plugged in the lamp and set the fresh bedding on the end of the mattress.

  “Can I help?” Julie stood in the room. Sanna shrugged. They’d known each other twelve years, but if Julie had been paying attention, she’d have known that company was not what Sanna wanted. Julie grabbed the fitted sheet and fluffed it out so Sanna could grab the other end, both tucking in their corners. “Thanks for getting the rooms ready.”

  Sanna shrugged. “Anders doesn’t know where anything is anyway.”

  Julie’s jaw twitched, but she stayed silent as Sanna tossed her the flat sheet.

  “He’s a good man.”

  Sanna stopped straightening her half of the sheet and stared at Julie. Julie looked down at the bed and fidgeted with the edge she held in her hands.

  “I wouldn’t know. He left. Just like the Donor.”

  She knew Julie would know who she was talking about. At least Anders would have clued her in about that. She finished tucking her end and jammed pillows into their cases, tossing a few at Julie. They finished spreading the comforter in silence.

  Sanna scooped up the cloths, holding her breath to keep from inhaling the dust, and dumped them in the basket waiting in the common area. There were four such areas in this part of the house—a center room surrounded by three bedrooms and a bathroom, then a hallway that led to the neighboring common area. A set of stairs led to a similar floor plan on the second story. This arrangement allowed for each family to have some privacy and unity, while being able to join together in the great rooms. When she was little, her grandparents lived down the hall and she lived here, with Anders, her dad, and the Donor. This was where she had lived until Anders moved to Green Bay.

  Growing up, she’d always envisioned her and Anders each getting married and taking over their own pods, filling up the house with laughing children. She’d hoped to have four little ones, at least. Maybe she and her husband would take over the second story because they had so many children. All those plans, already damaged by the Donor’s departure, cracked completely when Anders didn’t return after graduation. The cracks spread, then broke into nothingness by the time she came home from college, no longer the whimsical wood sprite her father had once called her as a child.

  Sanna picked up a second pile of bedding and went into the next room, the room that had once been hers. A faded poster of the four Hogwarts houses still hung on the wall next to a framed picture of her and Anders hanging upside down from one of the Looms by their legs. She used to love that picture and hadn’t seen it in years. Julie had started to carefully pull off the sheets and drop them into the basket outside the door.

  “I’m sorry about your dad. I know how close you are with him.”

  Sanna refrained from sighing—I guess they were going to make small talk. Her favo
rite.

  “Thanks.” She tucked the fitted sheet around the mattress on her side, while Julie finished her side. “The girls are getting big.”

  “Like weeds. I’m already getting flickers of what they’ll be like as teenagers. It’s scary. They’ve always been okay with sharing, but now they insist on having their own everything. Good thing the new house has extra bedrooms.”

  Why did Julie think Sanna wanted to know this?

  “The girls will need to share. I’m not making up more rooms,” Sanna said.

  Julie nodded.

  “That’s fine. They’d prefer that in a strange house.”

  Sanna’s nostrils flared.

  “It wouldn’t be strange if you ever visited.”

  Julie’s face darkened.

  “Not everyone wants to be trapped here.” Julie exited the room, leaving those loaded words echoing. Sanna finished making the bed by herself, focusing on the repetitive motions so she could ignore the memories of the last time someone had said that to her.

  She heard Anders’s heavy footsteps before she saw him.

  “What did you do? Julie looked really upset.”

  Julie hadn’t told him the details of their conversation. Yet. She straightened the duvet, smoothing out the wrinkles that were no longer there.

  “You can yell at me all you like. Do not upset my wife and daughters. Ever.”

  Sanna nodded. She couldn’t fault him for defending his family, no matter what she thought of him and his choices. At least he had that right. She took the photo of them off the wall. Pressure built behind her eyes and swallowing became harder.

  “Remember when we were little and we used to stay in the trees past dark?” Her voice cracked from holding back her sadness, so Anders finished her thought.

  “Pa would bring us dinner so we wouldn’t need to come in until the last possible minute.” He smiled at the memory.

  “Why didn’t you want your girls to have that, too?”

  Anders took the picture from her, glanced at it, and set it on the dresser. His eyes looked sad.

  “Your whole life is built on changes. Seasons changing, apples changing from juice to cider, trees changing. Why has this change always been so hard for you?”

  “It doesn’t count when I know the change is coming. The changes I don’t plan for are the ones that I hate. Like today.” Her lip trembled so she bit it.

  Anders pulled her into a hug, and Sanna rested her chin on his shoulder. It was nice to be close to him. He used to be her best friend in everything and now she barely knew him.

  “You don’t have to go through anything alone. I’m here.”

  “Until you go back to Green Bay.” A few minutes ago, those words would have had a sharp edge, but now they were merely sad.

  “You and Pa could come visit when he’s better. You might just like it.”

  She rolled her eyes at him.

  “I should get back to the hospital, see how Pa’s doing. If we leave him there alone too long, Mrs. Dibble will start pestering him.”

  “Pa’s not getting any younger, Sanna, whether you like it or not. Just meet with Eva. She has a lot to offer. It’s only coffee.”

  Sanna wanted to say no. She wanted to refuse. She wanted to, but she didn’t.

  “I don’t drink coffee.”

  Anders chuckled. He knew he had won.

  “You can have tea.” He pulled away and looked at her. “Just hear what she has to say.”

  She took a deep breath, proud of herself for not letting any tears fall. Too much had happened in one day. When she woke up that morning, the thought of selling Idun’s had never crossed her mind, and now . . .

  “Fine, set it up. Let me know where and when.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Eva intentionally stood and waited for the Lunds to arrive, enjoying the way her high heels pinched her toes. The slight pain reminded her she was stronger and tougher than all those around her. The door opened and in walked two gloriously tall, obviously related people, a man and woman with similar short pale hair and striking blue eyes. Strong cheekbones and jawlines carved from stone. They moved with grace—what she wouldn’t do with that height. The woman wore unflattering jeans and work boots. She hadn’t even bothered with lip gloss. The man, at least, had on khaki pants and a neat dress shirt with a button-down collar. Even in her heels, she didn’t reach their shoulders. They must be the Lunds, Anders and Sanna. She’d heard from her source that they were tall.

  They would need to sit.

  The two were already talking about something and didn’t realize she was their appointment. She stepped a little closer to hear them better.

  “Please keep your mind open,” Anders said, his face even stonier. “You aren’t the only one in this family.”

  He stood close to the woman so they didn’t have to speak loudly, but it was clear from their stiff bodies they were fighting.

  “Dad doesn’t want to leave the orchard. We spoke last night when I went back to the hospital.”

  Anders huffed out of his nose.

  “Dad is on a lot of pain meds. When he comes home, he’ll realize he can’t jump back into work.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’ll want to leave Idun’s.” Sanna played with her necklace, rubbing her fingers on the medallion. “Why are you so against the orchard? Julie commented last night that ‘not everyone wants to be trapped here.’ Did you feel trapped?”

  Anders’s mouth froze into a grim line.

  “She’s not talking about me.”

  “Then what was she talking about?”

  “I’m not getting into it right now.” He looked around the coffee shop and his eyes settled on Eva. Sanna hadn’t noticed her yet.

  “How am I supposed to believe anything you say when you won’t tell me the truth?”

  Eva could use that infighting to her advantage.

  “I’m not lying to you. Withholding information is not the same thing as lying. You’d be wise to remember that.” He held out his hand to her and spoke in a louder voice. “You must be Eva.”

  She pulled out her most friendly and innocent smile.

  “Yes. I knew who you were right away. You must be the tallest people in the county. Who knew Finns were so tall?”

  Anders smiled at her right away—getting men to smile at her was never difficult. Sanna was another story—definitely not charmed. The tall woman snorted and rolled her eyes.

  “We’re Swedes, not Finns.”

  Eva blinked. That mistake would cost her, she’d have to appeal to Sanna with a different strategy.

  “Well, now I know.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll grab us a table while you get your drinks.”

  Eva left them to it while she settled into a tiny table in a corner. The shorter chairs would bring them down to her height. She set her binder of documents on the table. It shouldn’t take long to convince them that the money was definitely worth it. Her offer was well over market for their land. In a few minutes, they were all settled.

  “Eva, why don’t you start with what you plan to do with the property?” Anders began.

  Eva paused. Most people didn’t care what WWW planned to do with the land. They just wanted the money. But easy enough to change her pitch on the fly. She pulled out another binder and opened it to a rendering of the proposed hotel and water park.

  “Here is the initial sketch. It always changes during the project, but you can see this is the road, the parking lot, water park, hotel.” She pointed to one end. “This will be an adults-only pool. We find some of our patrons prefer a quieter atmosphere.” She winked at them, grinning. Anders smiled. Sanna just stared at the image.

  “Where are the trees?” Sanna asked.

  “The trees?”

  “You’re buying an apple orchard. In Door County. You’ve even named it The Orchard.” She pointed to the top of the image. And it’s true, they were planning to name the complex The Orchard, or at least something tied into a Door County theme. Her designer
s were still working on final interior plans.

  “I guess we’ll plant a few along the edges after construction is done. See, you’re already seeing how plans can change.” Eva smiled, giving it her best “I’m with you” look.

  “You’re going to cut down all the existing trees to build this.” Sanna pointed at the picture. “Then plant some new apple trees.”

  “In my experience, it’s easier for construction to remove any existing physical obstacles, then bring those elements back as newer or updated.” Eva didn’t understand what was so complicated about this. “Let’s move on to the financi—”

  As she spoke, Sanna stood and walked out of the coffee shop with no warning and no explanation. How unprofessional. Anders rubbed his forehead with one of his huge hands.

  “Is she coming back?” Eva asked.

  “No.” Anders looked at her. “Let me be frank. I think it makes sense to sell. I think your offer is a good start. But if you want any chance of making this deal happen, you either need to find a way that she won’t care about those trees being cut down or build the water park around them. Call when you have something new.”

  He stood and followed his sister out.

  Save the fucking trees? Who cared about trees? You can always plant more trees. But Eva’s mind already started churning out ideas. Her brother would have strong-armed the sellers into an agreement using more money as his blunt tool, but Eva could tell money alone didn’t matter to Sanna. This was what her dad and brother never understood about women, about people, really. There was usually more to any deal than dollars alone. She needed to win Sanna over, earn her trust, find a way to save those trees, and then her deal would be done.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  It was barely light out when Sanna snuck out of the house, leaving a fresh pot of coffee brewing. She used her dad’s truck so Elliot’s loud engine wouldn’t wake her brother—she’d see him soon enough at the hospital, where, after five days of eating bland hospital food supplemented by containers of Mrs. Dibble’s home cooking, her father was waiting to come home. Before she left, she stopped at the mobile home and knocked softly on the door. No response. She waited a few moments, then knocked again more firmly. She admired the trailer’s recent improvements. The grass had been edged neatly around the base of the building and mowed a few yards out, creating a small yard. Terra-cotta clay pots of geraniums flanked the steps, the red popping against the surrounding emerald. It looked homey.