The Simplicity of Cider

by Amy E. Reichert

  “Bass, I’m sorry.” Bass faced him and those brown eyes tore at him. Could he make things right? “I was wrong and I never really explained to you all that happened. I thought I was protecting you, but that wasn’t fair. You had a right to say good-bye to your mom in your own way. I took that away from you. I hope you can forgive me. When you’re ready.”

  Outside the approaching storm finally crashed over the orchard, turning the air into water, which thundered on the truck’s roof. Bass blinked down at his lap, his face screwed up to fight the tears. Isaac needed to remember he hadn’t had three months to mourn. To him, it was like his mom had just died.

  “Did you know she was going to die?”

  “I didn’t. I really thought she was getting the help she needed. But when people are addicted to drugs, sometimes that’s all they can think about. If I’d known she wasn’t going to come home, you would have seen her. I promise.”

  Bass’s eyes sparkled with tears ready to fall, and he tucked his face into Isaac’s side.

  “I’m mad because I didn’t know I should be sad. Before we left, I was happy I wasn’t going to see her for a while. The last time I saw her she yelled at me and threw my Legos away after she stepped on one. I should’ve told her I loved her. Maybe that would have helped her.”

  Isaac wrapped his arms around Bass.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong at all, but you deserved better from me.” Isaac pulled him tight, and they sat in silence as Bass’s body shook.

  “We should have a funeral for her. We should say good-bye the right way.”

  When did his son get so much smarter than him? He’d been so busy telling him to be young that he hadn’t seen the thoughtful young man he was becoming. Isaac couldn’t have been prouder.

  “Of course. Why don’t you get into some dry clothes and come back out? It looks like Mr. Lund could use some help.”

  Bass rubbed his eyes and nodded.

  “I love you with all my heart, Bass. I’ll do whatever I can to be both your mom and dad from now on.” He kissed his forehead.

  “Love you, too, Dad.”

  They’d be okay.

  Bass ran to the house, and Isaac took a deep breath before dashing through the rain to help Einars. But when he entered the farm stand, he discovered Einars had plenty of help already. Anders was there with Mrs. Dibble, Sheriff Dibble, and her grandsons. Anders worked the cash register, while Mrs. Dibble and the boys refilled bags of apples. Einars stood at a table in the back, offering cider samples to those who wanted it. A short, dark-haired couple—though everyone he saw these days seemed short compared to the Lunds—helped him with the tasting. They smiled and laughed with the customers as they filled small glasses. Einars saw him and waved him over.

  “Isaac, meet Lou and Al. They’re up from Milwaukee for the weekend and found your brilliant website about Idun’s.”

  They all shook hands.

  “Where’s Sanna? They want to meet her.”

  “I’m right here.”

  Her hair was still wet, and she wore a lightweight gray sweater that went halfway to her knees over a pair of jeans. Her cheeks flushed pink when she looked at Isaac. Einars made the introductions.

  “I’m in love with this cider. Actually all the ciders,” Lou said. She had wavy, dark brown hair, and the way Al watched her—it was as if the world would end if he stopped. “You have so many different types. I would love to build a menu around it.”

  Sanna looked confused.

  “A menu?”

  “I have a restaurant in Milwaukee, and these ciders would make a fantastic pairing for a special tasting menu. For example, Toasty Dark Brown would go beautifully with roasted chicken and root vegetables—I’m thinking beets, parsnips, and fingerling potatoes—with a sauce made from the cider.” She took another sip of the cider and smacked her lips—her eyes drifted off to another place, the same way Sanna’s did when she envisioned new ciders. “And thyme, maybe rosemary, I’ll need to play with it. Anyway, you get the idea.”

  “So, you want to buy my cider?”

  Lou smiled and touched Sanna’s arm.

  “I want to buy a lot of your cider. Should we set up an appointment for tomorrow to talk pricing?”

  Sanna used her phone to schedule it as the two women continued chatting about flavors and possible pairings.

  “We’ll be taking a bit to go today, too,” Al said, grabbing four six-packs from the cooler, carrying them to where Isaac had taken over the register from Anders. “How long have you two been together?” Al tilted his head toward Sanna.

  “Just friends,” Isaac said. “Why do you ask?”

  “She’s looked at you no less than five times since she walked in—quick little checks to make sure you were still there. You’re doing the same thing to her.” Al paused. “Whatever you’re not saying—don’t wait. It’s absolutely worth the risk.” Al’s eyes moved to Lou, and he glowed.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “It always is, mate.”

  Lou and Al paid for the cider with promises of returning tomorrow. Sanna’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she watched them go, then turned back to the tables, her eyes flicking to Isaac. He considered Al’s advice. Did it even make sense to confess how he felt for Sanna? They needed to head back to California for a funeral as Bass had said and to pick up their lives.

  “Boys, why don’t you go see what’s taking Bass so long?” Sheriff Dibble said.

  Einars began closing down the stand as the last few customers walked out. They’d sold a lot of stock.

  “This is a start if we’re going to make our payments,” Anders said. Isaac knew he was trying to keep the peace with Sanna, but one good day wouldn’t solve their debt.

  Sanna tucked her hands into her sweater sleeves.

  “I’ve been thinking on that and I have an idea. Anders, you’re right about investors, but we also need someone who knows how to make money and sell an idea.”

  As she shared her plan with them, the screen door on the house slammed as Bass finally emerged with the Dibble boys, singing a rude song at the top of their lungs. Perhaps Bass wasn’t one hundred percent grown-up yet.

  As they approached, Thad drove in with his giant truck, forcing the boys to run toward the patio.

  • • • • •

  Seeing the silver monstrosity on her property, Sanna remembered him walking away from her fallen tree—or at least seeing a figure wearing his signature beige. Up until now, she hadn’t had the emotional space to process what she had seen, but now that she had a viable path to saving the orchard, and all the secrets had been laid bare and dealt with, Sanna could give the matter her full attention.

  And she was pissed.

  Anger burned her from the bottom of her feet to the top of her head. In her heart of hearts, she knew he was responsible for the fallen apples, the fire, the girdling, and the demise of the Dancing Tree. This ended now.

  As he got out of the car, she swooped at him, the rain having slowed to a drizzle.

  “You. I know what you did. How dare you set foot on Idun’s? How dare you?”

  Thad stopped in front of her, his red face equally angry, finally adding color to his taupe visage.

  “You’ve ruined everything,” he said.

  Sanna hadn’t expected an accusation back. What could he possibly be complaining about?

  “What are you talking about? You aren’t still upset I won’t marry you?”

  “You’ve ruined the deal. WWW planned to buy my property, too, but only if you would sell. We could have each had millions, and you’ve wrecked it.”

  Pieces clicked into Sanna’s head. As someone who saw money as a means to keeping her home, she didn’t need more beyond that. Thad had only been after her property for money. When marriage wasn’t a viable option, he wanted the cash. Any sympathy she had for him or guilt over how their friendship ended dissipated with the rain clouds clearing above them.

  “You son of a bitch,” Sanna said.
>
  “Literally,” Einars said under his breath.

  “You really did do it all, didn’t you? The apples, the girdling, the fire. You cut down my tree. You knew how much that would hurt me. I loved that tree.”

  She stood inches from his face, forcing him to look up at her, yet he still had the balls to deny it.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He said the words evenly, like he’d practiced saying them in the mirror to make them convincing.

  “You. Lie.”

  While they argued, Sanna noticed the boys climb onto the back of his truck, using the tires to drag themselves up, then jump off into a large puddle, splashing the side of his previously immaculate exterior.

  “Hey, Sanna,” Bass called after his second or third jump. “Are these the missing cider bottles?” He held one up so everyone could see the custom Idun’s label.

  “Get out of my truck.” Thad started toward the rear, but Sanna followed, recognizing her bottle.

  “That is one of mine. Why do you have that?”

  Thad turned to explain to her as if she were a child.

  “Because I always drink your cider. You gave it to me.”

  “I’ve never given you bottles that have labels on them. I just got those labels last month. You took those from my barn—they were missing. What else do you have back there?”

  “He’s got a chain saw,” Bass said.

  Thad moved his glance from face to face.

  “This is ridiculous. I’m leaving.” He pointed at Bass in the truck bed. “Get out.”

  He moved toward the driver’s-side door, but Sheriff Dibble converged.

  “I don’t think so. You and I are going to have a bit of a chat.”

  As Sanna watched Thad get shoved, none too gently, into the back of Sheriff Dibble’s squad car, her anger and hurt and stress melted into the puddles covering the parking lot. Everything was finally falling into place, but she had one more leap to make.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Eva pushed her sunglasses off her face as Sanna approached the table, her head almost bumping the red and white awning above them. She carried two sundaes in her hands and a tote bag over her plaid-covered arm. Sanna had asked her to meet here, alone. Given how their last meeting had gone and then the one with Anders, Eva had been intrigued to say the least. Perhaps she’d get a chance to show her the new plans and prove to her father she was good enough after all.

  “Mint and fudge or butterscotch and fudge?” Sanna nodded to the glass dishes of ice cream in her hands. Eva pointed to the smaller butterscotch sundae—relatively smaller at least. “Good, mint is my favorite,” Sanna said, setting the butterscotch sundae in front of Eva.

  Sanna settled into her own chair, taking a big bite, then an even bigger breath. Eva recognized the signs of someone pretending to not be nervous. What could unsettle this woman?

  “Thank you for meeting me. I had a few things I wanted to discuss with you.”

  “Is it about the plans I shared with Anders? Because we can be flexible to get this deal done.”

  “Sadly, no. But if it helps, that is partly why I’m here.” Sanna’s eyes closed as she savored another bite. She pointed at Eva’s sundae. “At least try it. Wilson’s has the best. You can’t say you’ve been to Door County unless you’ve had their ice cream.”

  Eva scraped off a bite of whipped cream and ate it. She paused to enjoy the sweetened topping. It had been a long time since she’d had ice cream. She took a bigger spoonful, one that had butterscotch and marshmallow on it. Bliss.

  “So, if you aren’t going to take the deal, why are we here?”

  “You made new plans that kept the trees. Why?”

  “You seemed attached to them, and I thought keeping some of the Looms would make the sale more palatable for you.”

  “You listened and compromised,” Sanna said.

  “Back to my question—why are we here?”

  Eva took another bite of the sundae. Now that she’d started, she couldn’t understand why she’d ever stopped eating ice cream. Everything seemed a little better—even hearing there was no way Sanna would sell the orchard didn’t seem as tragic with ice cream.

  “I have a different business proposition, which could use a smart businesswoman like yourself.” Sanna paused. She was finally getting to the point. “As you know, Idun’s is very important to me. One of the many reasons is because I make cider from the heirloom apples, the Looms, we grow.” She pulled a bottle and two plain glasses out of her bag. The label on the bottle was a black-brown. She opened it and poured an inch into both the glasses. “I don’t mean this in a boastful way, but it’s very special cider. This batch is called Fudge, and you’ll find it goes surprisingly well with ice cream.”

  Sanna took a sip and ate another bite, so Eva did the same, skeptical that a hard cider would go well with dessert. She sipped the dark amber liquid, which had a lazy effervescence. It was sweet, and the subtle fruit notes enhanced those in the hot fudge and vanilla. There wasn’t any bitterness or dryness to confuse the taste buds. Closer to a port, really, but easier to drink.

  “Why do you need me? I know nothing about cider.” Sanna finished her cider and rolled the empty glass between her hands. Eva reached over and took the glass from her hands. “You’re showing me you’re nervous. Don’t.”

  Sanna smiled.

  “See, that’s why I need you. I can make cider and grow apples forever. I could teach you all about making it and drinking it, but I don’t know anything about selling it. And, as you know better than most, the orchard is in massive debt. For me to keep doing what I love, I need people to buy it. Lots of it. I know it’s good. I know customers would love it. I just don’t know how to connect the two. Already, I have interest from a restaurant to purchase a good amount, but I have no clue how to negotiate a deal like that. You know business. And I need an investor. Someone who can provide enough cash to get us over the growing we need to do and guide me on the business side of things.”

  Eva sat up. Now they were talking. Thoughts of water parks and architect drawings disappeared. Work had never been about the money. She had plenty sitting in her trust fund. With it, she could invest in ten different companies like this, without it affecting her life—but it could change the course of business for some small companies. Her mind already had seven, no, eight ideas for research she wanted to do about the industry and how they could market the cider. They’d need a business plan, of course, and she’d need to better understand Sanna’s goals. Her mind whizzed with possibilities and the thrill of creating something from nothing.

  At WWW, it was always someone else’s plan, someone else’s process. She was the go-between who had to ask permission to change drawings or suffer the consequences. Never good enough for Dad, never as ruthless as Patrick.

  Sanna was offering something better than a deal: autonomy.

  “I’m intrigued.” She pulled a napkin from the nearby holder and started writing down percentages and dollar amounts. Sanna countered with her own. While Sanna had claimed ignorance in business, she knew her worth and Eva respected her more for it. They eventually agreed on a forty percent stake each in the company, and to sell the other twenty percent to community investors.

  “Trust me, even if it’s a thousand dollars, if a community member has a stake, they’ll work just as hard as a majority holder,” Eva said.

  Sanna studied the paper.

  “I’ll share this with my dad and brother, but I think we’re close to something.” Sanna stood to leave. “I’ll call you in a day or two to discuss what we need to do next.”

  As she walked away, Eva scooped another bite of ice cream and fudge. If this worked, she could stop working for her father. No more Patrick lording his position over her. No more being put on hold before being allowed to talk to her own father. She watched traffic scooching by on the nearby road and the boats bobbing in the marina. A new peace settled over her. Under the table, she kicked off her heels, propped
her feet up on a chair, and savored every bite of her sundae.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Sanna’s nerves skittered and bounced. It had been a week since she signed the deal with Eva that saved Idun’s—but that wasn’t why she tingled more and more as she cleared the dinner plates with Bass’s help. Her dad had moved into his favorite chair and was using a bent coat hanger to scratch his leg under his cast. Isaac had gone to retrieve the lesson Bass needed to work on now that dinner was finished.

  “How’s the homeschooling going?” She scraped their dinner scraps into the trash then handed the dishes to Bass to put in the dishwasher.

  “Pretty good. Dad says I should be way ahead of my friends when we get back.”

  There it was. She knew it was coming, but that didn’t stop it sinking to the bottom of her stomach.

  “Do you know when that is?”

  “Soon, I think. He can tell you.” Bass pointed his chin at his dad as he returned to the room.

  “What can I tell you?” Isaac said.

  Sanna tossed the empty cider bottles they had with dinner into the bin to wash and reuse.

  “I’ll ask you later.”

  As Sanna served up the apple cobbler, she watched the two get started on Bass’s geography lesson. She brought her dad a plate and set one next to Bass. Once Isaac had Bass settled on what he needed to do, he joined Sanna in the kitchen.

  “No dessert for me?”

  Sanna ran through all the possible responses to that, all flirty and saucy and not her.

  “Can I steal you for a while?”

  Isaac took note of her fingers tapping the counter, then met her eyes with his warm brown ones, probably trying to discern why she was so nervous.

  “Of course.”

  “Pa, Isaac and I are going out for a bit. You got things under control. I have my phone if you need us.”

  Einars raised the hand holding his fork to acknowledge he had heard them, then continued to enjoy his cobbler.

  She grabbed Isaac’s hand and led him outside to Elliot. As she drove through the orchard, he watched her silently, his gaze like little caresses. The sky had no clouds, only a billion stars being chased by the rising moon. When they arrived deep in the Looms, Sanna parked the truck where the Dancing Tree once stood.