***

In the midst of August, I drive as much as the market in Homestead, a spot I’d averted since Travis died.

I stand on the entrance and freeze. The final steps—those that can take me into the bustling scene—really feel nearly unimaginable.

Someway, I take them. I take them and don’t hassle to cover the way in which I, a forty-one-year-old girl, have tears operating down her cheeks whereas smiling proudly as a result of she’s standing in the course of a crowded market.

The sounds, smells, and tastes are all the identical, like nineteen months haven’t handed. Prefer it’s simply been standing right here ready for me to come back again all alongside.

As a lot as I’m standing right here in the course of the gang with luggage of produce, I miss Ethan. I consider our date on the evening market and the way in which he slipped his fingers by means of mine. With my eyes closed within the scorching warmth in the course of the gang exterior of Miami, I can nearly style the wine within the plastic cup and listen to the bluesy music enjoying within the cool Maine air.

With out giving myself time to alter my thoughts, I pull my telephone out.

Me: Hello.

I chew my lip within the seconds that really feel like an eternity it takes for him to reply.

Ethan: Hello.

I smile and snap an image of one of many tables lined in peaches, then ship it to him.

Me: Peaches are in season.

Ethan: What are you going to do with them?

Me: One thing with rum.

Ethan: You went to a market.

Me: I went to a market.

My thumbs buzz to kind extra, however I don’t.

I slide my telephone again into my pocket proper earlier than I purchase a bag of peaches.

That evening, after a number of experiments, the peach mojito turns into the specialty drink for the remainder of August. Delight swells as I write it in huge crazy letters on the board with colourful chalk.

Proof that I had extra dwelling left to do.

Forty-nine

Finn spends the primary weekend of September fishing and surprises Marin and me with a full unfold of fish tacos and selfmade Pico de Gallo for dinner.

“Finn. That is superb. What’s this recipe?”

Each spicy and candy taste he used compliments the opposite completely.

“Derek despatched it to me.”

“Derek?” I choke mid-swallow. “I didn’t know you stored in contact,” I pause. “How are they? Him? He?”

Marin laughs. “Mother, you’re so apparent. Why don’t you simply name Ethan? Individuals have long-distance relationships on a regular basis. It’s not unimaginable. And July in Maine is so much higher than July on this scorching inferno.”

I scoff. “That’s dramatic.” I flip to Finn. “Both method, it’s nice. Inform Derek it’s a winner.”

How’s Ethan? The query sits in my mouth till it dissolves.

I modify the topic. “My first consulting gig is tomorrow. I’m serving to a bar down close to Key West revamp their drink menu.”

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