Sunrise Point

certain this was a bad idea. It was dangerous—she had a crush on him. He was going to be her fantasy man long after he married the princess and sold the orchard. But she talked herself into it because certainly this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Not only would Darla soon be back, the harvest would be over and Nora was going to have to move on to other things.
    So—she did laundry at her neighbor’s, had a wonderful blouse and vest that was a hand-me-down from Leslie down the street, dragged out a pair of boots she’d gotten from church donations and put on her best jeans—they were almost new. Everything was ironed with spray starch so she’d look crisp. No ponytail tonight—she left her hair down and curled, something she never bothered to do for work at the orchard. She added a little makeup to her lips and eyes. After baths, she dressed the girls in their pajamas, loaded a grocery bag with their night diapers, a bottle for Fay, their favorite blankets, and off she went to the orchard.
    Tom might see this as a couple of friends having dinner, but for Nora it was the one date she was going to agree to this decade. But when she got to the house, she sensed a problem that hadn’t occurred to her—Maxie was far too hopeful.
    Well, Nora knew she wasn’t fond of Darla. She’d heard the women talking about her—Miss Picky Pants. And Nora also knew that Maxie liked her, maybe because they had things in common, like coming from poor roots. And they liked dogs and children and laughed at the same things. But she wanted to warn Maxie not to get excited.
    But of course there was no opportunity to warn her. She kissed the girls good-night and found herself in Tom’s truck, on her way to a restaurant.
    “Why are you nervous?” he asked her. “It’s not like we haven’t had dinners together before. Lots of them.”
    “But this is strange,” she said. “This is us going to a restaurant.”
    And oh, it was such a lovely restaurant—all dark wood and candles and just full of people having a good time. His hand was at the small of her back, guiding her into the restaurant and to their table—a lovely little table just slightly apart from the crowd up against some windows out of which she could see the starlight. She was at once enchanted and terrified.
    The waiter handed them menus.
    “Nora, have a glass of wine,” Tom said. “You can indulge a little bit tonight. What do you like?”
    “I have no idea,” she said.
    Tom looked up at the waiter. “How about a nice pinot grigio?” he asked the waiter. “And bring me a Sam Adams. Also, while we look at the menu, can you start us off with stuffed grape leaves and calamari?”
    “Outstanding,” the waiter said.
    Nora glanced at the menu briefly. She slammed it shut suddenly and in a quiet hiss she said, “This is far too expensive!”
    He closed his menu and looked at her over a small votive candle. “Here’s what we’ll do, Nora. If it’s okay, I’ll order for us. How about we split a Greek salad and have the chicken kabobs, unless you can brave the menu and find something you’ll like better.”
    She just shook her head. Then she nodded and he laughed at her.
    “It’s okay, Nora—it’s a business expense, I suppose. Taking an employee to dinner. Of course, when the harvest is over, I won’t be able to deduct you anymore.”
    “Don’t do that,” she said. “Don’t act like this sort of thing is going to happen again.”
    He closed his menu and said, “Crap. You’re afraid you’ll like me! Listen, take it easy on that, all right? You hardly talked on the way over—is that the problem? You don’t want to like me outside of work? Because I’d like to make it clear—that’s okay with me. We get along, so why not? And get this—I actually enjoy spending time with you.”
    Many, many reasons to worry about this, she thought. Like being devastated, for one thing.
    The wine came and he said, “Have a sip of wine. I hope you like it okay. And I hope you relax a little, otherwise you’re going to suck all the fun out of this.”
    “Right,” she said, taking a sip. She glanced up at the waiter. “This is very nice. Thank you.” And then she took another sip and a deep breath. He was right; he was going to some trouble. She should be cordial.
    She relaxed as much as possible, put her glass down and said, “I apologize. This is very special. I don’t want to ruin it.”
    “Great. Now tell me, how’s it going with