You, Me, and Her

Chapter 3: Competition

I caught glimpses of the farmer girl a few more times over the next month. Sometimes she'd hustle by in town with bags of seed, soil, and supplies slung over her shoulder, and other times she'd give me a wave during my evening walks through her slowly improving farm--though you could only see the improvements if you squinted really hard.

From a far distance, I noticed the farmhouse had fewer holes in the roof than before and some parts of the long, sweeping fields had been cleared of brush and debris. I never walked close enough to thoroughly check out the property, as it wasn't my place to intrude--plus I didn't care enough to, anyways--but it appeared to be as shabby of a place as could be. Livable, but barely.

Spring was in full force and wildflowers swept across the riverbanks and trails I'd grown so accustomed to. While I could head back into the mountains to enjoy the groomed hiking paths that offered a bit more incline and challenge, I tended to prefer my established walking route surrounding the town.

The weather was particularly nice one Saturday when Alex and I met up for a spontaneous picnic catch-up. We sat cross-legged on a plush tuft of grass at the front of his house with a basket of whatever I could scrounge up from my pantry and a cheap Cabernet that we drank straight from the bottle.

It had finally grown warm enough to pull out our hot-weather clothes, and I very excitedly sported my favorite pink skirt and a light blue top that brought out the peachiness of my skin. Alex wore his version of spring clothes-a plain white tee and a pair of jeans decorated with a few rips at the knees.

Alex's grandmother, Evelyn, kneeled in the small garden attached to their home, wearing a bright purple smock as she tended to her blooming geraniums, while Dusty, their dog, scampered around the yard with a sturdy stick he must have recently sniffed out.

We chatted about everything and nothing, getting tipsy on the wine while Evelyn chuckled at our frivolous conversation. I almost felt content for the first time since I moved back home post-university, enjoying the sun and breeze and company without any stressful thoughts weighing on me.

That feeling only lasted for a moment, evaporating the moment Alex shifted upright and remarked, "Hey, it's Claire!"

I sat the near-empty bottle down on the grass and crooned my neck around him to catch a glimpse of the girl in the town center. It wasn't much of a town square, more so a line of small shops facing a wide stone pavilion just down the street from Alex's place. The farmer girl, Claire, was exiting Pierre's General Store with three large bags of something dirty and grimy slumped heavily in her arms. She made it a few steps before nearly taking a tumble, dropping the bags on the stone floor as she caught her balance.

"Oh, the poor dear. Looks like she needs some help," Evelyn observed empathetically as she carefully trimmed a leaf off one of her wildly blooming plants. "Why don't you two kids go give her a hand?"

Alex immediately rose to his feet in agreement, but I lingered in my spot on the soft ground. Leaving my little slice of happiness to heave bags of farming substances for a girl I hardly knew? That sounded like the last thing I wanted to do.

"Hales, come on!" Alex asserted, his hand outstretched toward me. "You heard what Granny said."

Sigh. He was such a momma's boy. Or, a grandmomma's boy, I supposed. Not wanting to appear rude to Evelyn, as I still had my rule to always respect my elders, I reluctantly reached for Alex's hand and let him swing me upwards.

"Don't pout, don't you wanna make new friends?" He asked as we headed over toward the struggling girl. "Claire seems chill, we should get to know her."

My eyes rolled to the sky. "I don't think I could be friends with someone who wears shoes made of plastic."