Chapter 22 - The Apple Orchard Proposal
Tuesday morning dawned with a brilliant, golden-hour radiance that promised an unseasonably warm afternoon. Over breakfast—strong coffee, toasted sourdough, and fresh blackberry preserves—Adrien laid out a topographical map of our property across the kitchen island.
“Right here,” Adrien tapped his finger against a grassy, sun-drenched slope behind the woodshed, sheltered from the harsh northern winds by a thick ridge of pine trees. “This is the lower field. Perfect soil drainage, maximum southern sun exposure, and protected from the winter salt spray.”
I leaned over the map, raising an eyebrow. “Are we planning to launch an agricultural empire now, Mr. Moretti? Should I call a team of organic farming consultants from Vermont?”
“No consultants,” Adrien grinned, his gray eyes sparkling. “Just us, two hundred saplings of Honeycrisp and McIntosh apples, and a lot of manual labor. I ordered the rootstock from a nursery down in Portland yesterday.”
I stared at him in fond disbelief. The man who used to negotiate multi-billion-dollar corporate acquisitions over private satellite lines was now designing a family orchard with the meticulous precision of a military campaign.
“An apple orchard,” I repeated softly, a warm smile spreading across my face. “You realize we won't see fruit from those trees for at least three to four years, right?”
“Good,” Adrien said without missing a beat, his gaze holding mine with absolute, unbreakable conviction. “That gives us a guaranteed excuse to stay right here for the next fifty.”
May you like
I reached across the island, framing his face with my hands, and kissed him deeply. “Order the saplings, Adrien. Let’s build an orchard.”
By afternoon, we were out in the lower field with shovels, wooden stakes, and measuring tape, marking out the precise grid where the young trees would take root. It was hard, physical work—dirt under our fingernails, sweat on our brows, and muscles aching in the spring air—and it was the most satisfying thing we had ever done.
