Sunrise Point

one minute yesterday. And I know he wants to include this lady friend he’s been seeing for fifteen years.” As Tom pulled up to the barn, she asked, “Do you have overtime on the weekend?”
    “Possibly. But I have a friend coming and I’m going to take a little time. Junior and Maxie will be in charge.”
    Her eyes lit up. “A friend?”
    “A woman.”
    “Holy cats!” she said. “You have a girlfriend?”
    “Not yet,” he said, turning off the ignition. “This is her first visit.”
    “Wow. Maybe we should shut the place down for a while, give you kids your privacy.” And she winked.
    “She’s staying at the house, Nora. Privacy and Maxie are mutually exclusive.”
    “Awww,” she said. “Well, take it from me—you want to move slowly. Make sure you know what you’re doing.”
    He laughed at her. “And do you know what you’re doing now, Miss Nora?”
    “I absolutely do,” she said with a nod. And then she thought, Did I really wink at him?
     
    * * *
    Nora happened to be picking not far from the drive into the orchard on Friday afternoon when a very classy red Caddy pulled in. She almost fell off her tripod ladder straining to see the woman get out of the car. Nora leaned so far right the ladder wobbled and she had to quickly grab on to a branch and right herself before she ended up on the ground under a pile of apples.
    But wow, was this woman gorgeous. She didn’t seem the type Nora would have pegged for Tom—she was very fancy in her red high-heeled boots, creased slacks, charcoal cape and multi-colored scarf. Those red boots! Nora almost swooned with desire— red leather boots . Was there anything more extravagant? And she had the kind of hair Nora had always envied—sleek, soft, shoulder-length blond that swung with her movements and yet kept its shape. As she casually slung her scarf over one shoulder, her beautiful hair moved in an almost choreographed manner. It caused Nora to touch her own hair self-consciously. The only haircuts she’d had in the past four years were the ones she gave herself.
    But those clothes, those boots, that car—the woman looked like visiting royalty.
    Oh, she was so happy for Tom. Surprised, but very happy. He deserved perfection.
    And then he came across the orchard toward the woman, marching fast, smiling broadly. He was wearing his uniform of jeans, knee-high rubber boots, blue company shirt with the logo, sleeves rolled up, drawing attention to those muscled forearms and big hands. It was chilly in the orchard, but people who were working, like Tom and Nora, didn’t need jackets. He swept off his hat just as he got near her, then pulled her into a big hug, rocking her back and forth. Then they separated quickly on a laugh; she brushed off her expensive cape. Yes, he was probably dirty. She’d watched him aerate between the trees, fix the fence and load wooden crates full of apples today.
    She watched them walk across the yard and mount the porch steps, arm in arm, laughing.
    Yeah, this was what Tom deserved. Nora went back to picking.
    If someone was going to find the perfect partner, she’d rather it be Tom than almost anyone she could think of. Funny, she thought, how she began by resenting him, fearing him a little, pretty sure he didn’t like her. Then she was sure that he felt stuck with her. But it hadn’t taken too long for her to appreciate him, admire him. It probably started with him treating her minor injuries with such gentle understanding, then driving her to and from work. But he really scored when he brought her a sandwich and held her as she cried.
    She’d had a small fantasy that she knew was idiotic, that she would never reveal to a soul, that after she’d gotten on her feet a little, after she’d proven she wasn’t such a pathetic loser, that Tom might gradually develop an interest in her. She knew it couldn’t happen fast, that it was really far-fetched, but hard times couldn’t kill all her fantasies.
    That was before she caught a glimpse of the perfect woman, of course.
    A while later she happened to see Tom wrangling the woman’s bags up the porch steps…her designer luggage. Now this just tears it, she thought. She had no idea which designer, but she knew—those cost a fortune. Plus, if Nora were visiting for a weekend, she’d be able to get by with a backpack. There were matching large, medium and small bags plus a rather large briefcase. Wow. She must be very important in addition to being beautiful.
    She