Seth picks up a large container of honey and scowls. “That sucks.”
“It’s for the best,” Thessaly says with conviction. “And by the way, are you two official?”
“Officially not dating, if that’s what you’re asking!” Meg leans against the island and grins. “Hey, Doogie. How’s New York treatin’ ya?”
Sitting on the floor and retying the laces to his sneakers, Shelby answers, “Not bad. I managed to get tickets for Jimmy Fallon tonight – wanna come?”
“Hell yeah!” Meg exclaims.
Standing from the floor and slapping Seth’s arm, Shelby apologizes, “Sorry, man, I only scored two tickets.”
“It’s cool. I’ll just watch Silicon Valley with my roommate. Maybe grill some cheese sandwiches and share a six pack . . .” mutters Seth.
“Awesome,” Shelby agrees. “Donuts?”
Meg follows Shelby to the kitchen while Seth helps Thessaly unwrap the remaining jars. “Jimmy Fallon and a doctor? I can’t even compete,” Seth drones.
“I wouldn’t worry. Meg is totally into you.”
Spilling from the kitchen with a napkin and two glazed donuts, Meg frowns. “Did I hear my name?” She places a napkin on the island and then shoves the shiny golden pastry into Seth’s face.
Seth rips off a piece with his teeth and smiles at Meg. She moves closer to him, their bodies touching, and whispers, “Good boy.” Spinning back around to face Thessaly, Meg says, “I was thinking we could suspend online orders for the remainder of the month. Without Lois, and with the new launch coming, it will be impossible to keep our high standards of delivery.”
“How many pending orders do we have?” asks Thessaly.
“I’ll look again, but I think less than ten. We can fill those tomorrow and ship them out on Monday.”
“All I have to do on my end is deactivate the online store – which is really easy.”
“Then let’s do it.”
“Did you talk to ice cream guy?”
“Mr. Softee!”
“Levi,” Thessaly corrects.
“Like the jeans?” Shelby teases.
Clarifying the confusion, Meg recites, “Levi Jones is the owner of Brooklyn Soil. He has a crush on your sister and got a boner during a photo shoot . . .”
“Stop right there,” begs Shelby.
“Levi and I had a few dates this week, but it’s not going to work.”
“Because of Mason?” asks Seth.
Crossing his arms, Shelby scorns, “I thought you ended things with Mason.”
“I tried, but then he asked me to move to London,” answers Thessaly.
“You’re moving to London?” squeals Meg.
“No, I mean, I said no.”
“Good. So what’s up with Levi?” asks Seth.
Ashamed, Thessaly whispers, “Levi took some of my clients.”
“He has honey,” Meg clarifies.
“Brooklyn Soil?” Shelby asks.
“Yes!” Meg and Seth shout in unison.
“Keep up, brother,” teases Thessaly.
“I do actually.” Swiping the iPad from the island, Shelby types in Brooklyn Soil and Immigrants into the Google search bar. Tapping the first title of a dozen articles, Shelby enlarges the screen and passes it to Thessaly. “Mama wanted me to find a youth program in Asheville that would allow troubled kids to spend a week on our farm. Brooklyn Soil kept popping up in my searches when I was researching youth farm programs – it’s pretty impressive.”
As Thessaly skims the article, Seth peers over her shoulder and asks, “So Levi is a good guy?”
“He’s amazing,” Thessaly mumbles.
“And you never googled him?” Meg quips, scrolling through her phone with a smile. “Do you follow his Instagram account?”
“No,” she answers quietly.
“I just did! Damn, he was in the Peace Corps. Look at this photo, Tess.” Meg flips her phone around to reveal a photo of Levi with a group of kids in an open kitchen in Belize. They’re all holding an ear of corn and a sign that reads: We’re so corny!
Thessaly smiles and then continues to read the online article. “What’s the refugee alliance,” she asks the group.
Shelby moves to Thessaly’s side and reads over her shoulder. “It’s a program that offers jobs to refugees seeking asylum. They work in agriculture or the arts while assimilating into New York.” Shelby taps a photo of a young couple on the iPad and addresses his sister. “And take a look at their newest project.”
“Beekeeping,” Thessaly whispers.
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t be concerned, Tess. They have one Afghani beekeeper, one apiary, and ten colonies.”
“Tess, he posted a pic with you!” Meg exclaims as she squeezes between Shelby and Thessaly. “You look drunk, but beautiful.”
“Obviously you haven’t seen Tess drunk,” Shelby teases.
Placing the iPad on the counter with a screen shot of a black and white photo of Levi planting cabbage, Thessaly calmly says, “Let’s get back to work, Shelby.” Glancing at Seth, she adds, “You two don’t have to stay. Go enjoy your day off!”
Nodding in agreement and pulling Meg away from Shelby, Seth replies, “Let’s go, weirdo.”
Looking at her phone while Seth tugs at her waist, Meg sighs. “Gah, he’s so nice, Tess. I bet Levi has a naughty little secret – the nice guys always get freaky in bed!”
“Bye, Meg.”
“Hey, Meg?” Shelby interrupts. “Meet me at the pub on the corner for drinks around five.” Breaking down a box into a flat rectangle, Shelby adds, “You can come, too, Seth.”
“See you guys later,” Seth grunts, stepping over bubble wrap. “You should lock the door – it’s a mess in here.”
Thessaly waves them off as she glances at the iPad screen with Levi’s picture. “Lock it behind you then,” she mutters.
“What’s next?” Shelby asks.
“Do you want to help me make honey sticks? We’ll use your flame method to seal the straws.”
“Fine, as long as I can pick the music. This crap you have playing right now is awful – Lilith Fair called and they want their lesbians back.”
Tossing Shelby the iPod, Thessaly says, “Go for it.” Heading toward the kitchen, she looks over her shoulder and adds, “Grab my coffee, will ya?”
Inside the kitchen, Thessaly pours raspberry honey into a plastic bottle normally used for mustard. She bought it at a restaurant supply store because the tip is narrow enough to fill a straw. She then removes a box of clear plastic straws from a nearby shelf and two sets of disposable gloves.
“Ah, nature’s Pixie Sticks.” Leaning against the work station and throwing back the last of his coffee, Shelby asks, “Do you remember that Halloween when Mama gave out honey sticks instead of candy?”
“Yes! Didn’t the house get egged?”
“Oh shit, you’re right.”
Handing Shelby a pair of gloves, Thessaly advises, “Trust me, you’ll want to wear them.”
Shelby tosses his coffee in the trashcan and slides on the gloves. “So what’s up with your friends? Are they together?”
“They’re together as far as you’re concerned,” Thessaly warns.
“All right!” Shelby throws his hands up in defense and adds, “I was just asking.”
“Pass me the pliers,” Thessaly says as her phone buzzes. Glancing at Meg’s name, Thessaly removes her gloves and answers the call. “Hey, Meg.”
“Tess – I got a really interesting email.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s from a lady that runs the Pennsylvania chapter of historic inns and bed and breakfasts.”
“Okay?” Thessaly sips her coffee and watches as Shelby spills the straws onto the workstation.
“They want you to submit a vendor proposal. Tess, this is huge!”
“That’s incredible, Meg!”
“I’m forwarding the email to you now.”
“Thanks, Meg.” Thessaly smiles at her brother as he ties a floral apron around his waist. Ending the call and opening the email, Thessaly mutters, “No way.”