The Anti-Cinderella

by Tawdra Kandle

  One day. One quick visit to my field. And then, after that, I could go back to forgetting Nicholas Windsor.

  “HEY, KYRA.” ED SCOTT, MY project partner, was squatting alongside a plot of turned soil, from which small green seedlings were poking their sweet little heads. He glanced up as I approached. “Is it just me, or is there some spring in the air today?”

  I laughed a little. “Spoken like a true New Englander, Ed. It’s just barely forty degrees. In Florida, this would be considered winter weather.”

  He stared at me from under the brim of his Boston Red Sox cap. “Feels like spring. No snow on the ground. Sun’s shining, and the sky is blue. Doesn’t seem like winter anymore.”

  Sometimes, teasing was lost on guys like Ed. “Yeah, guess you’re right.” I dropped to my haunches. “What’re you working on?”

  “More soil samples. I’m planning to put together the preliminary report on the control field this weekend, so I want to make sure we have accurate numbers on the minerals and nutrients.”

  “Good thinking. I’ll pull a few on the natural farming plot tomorrow.” Scooping up a fistful of the rich black dirt, I let it sift through my fingers. “And we start the second wave of planting on Monday. Will you think I’m a total geek if I admit I’m a little nervous about that?”

  “Nah. It’s exciting.” Ed smiled briefly. “And this is your baby. Your idea. You want everything to go well.”

  “Yeah, I do.” I stood up and wiped my hands on the worn denim covering my thighs. “Ed, have you given much thought about what you’ll be doing after graduation?”

  One of his shoulders lifted in an eloquent statement. “Not too much. I’d like to go for my doctorate, but I don’t think I could handle those student loans on top of what I already have.”

  “Oh. Yeah, I get it.” I did understand, even if I felt a pang of guilt. I was well aware that I was damned lucky that my grandparents had underwritten my education. I had the kind of freedom few of my classmates did. There wasn’t any pressure for me to take a job that I might not like but that would pay the bills.

  “Probably have to hope for an offer from one of the big companies, for a few years at least.” One side of his mouth twisted up. “Does that make me a sell-out, d’you think?”

  “No. It means you’ll do what you have to do, even if it’s just for a little while. You can always keep up with the stuff you enjoy more on the side.” I drew a line in the dirt with the toe of my boot. “Or maybe something else will come up, and you won’t have to make that decision.”

  “I guess. Maybe.” Ed sounded doubtful. “There just aren’t that many opportunities for people with our degree. Not yet, anyway.” He rose to stand next to me and squinted over my shoulder. “Who’s that coming over here?”

  I turned to follow the direction of his gaze, and my stomach dropped. I couldn’t make out the face, but I recognized the easy gait and the build. “Oh. Oh, um, I ran into an old friend last night, someone I hadn’t seen a long time. I told him a little bit about what we’re doing here, and he asked if he could stop by to check it out. He won’t be staying long.”

  “Okay.” Ed brushed off his hands. “I’m going to get back to work. Yell if you need me.”

  “Sure. Thanks.” I stepped over to the path of packed dirt and made my way toward the far edge of the field. I wasn’t sure whether I was relieved that Nicky was here or annoyed that he’d remembered to come.

  The night before, he’d changed the subject as we ate the pie, and I’d begun to hope that maybe he’d just been messing with me, getting a rise out of me, or maybe pretending to be interested in my work. I’d tried not to be disappointed about something I’d never really wanted anyway.

  And then as I was leaving, lingering just inside the door to hug Honey and Handsome, Nicky, who was staying with my grandparents at their house, held out one hand, palm up.

  “Give me your phone.”

  I frowned. “Why?”

  Nicky wiggled his fingers. “I want to put my number into your phone so that you can send me the address for your garden. What time will you be there tomorrow?”

  I tilted my head. “How do you know I’ll be at the fields tomorrow? Maybe I don’t go every day.”

  “But you will be, won’t you? So give me the address and tell me the time. I’ll be there in the proper clothing.”

  Part of me wanted to argue so that I could avoid seeing Nicky again. It had been a lovely surprise this evening, and I wasn’t going to give my grandparents a hard time for arranging the dinner, but the truth was that I’d enjoyed myself too much with him. I’d remembered all too clearly how much fun we’d had as kids. I’d liked him all over again, and this time, I understood with perfect clarity why nothing real or lasting could ever happen between us.

  Still, I knew that Honey expected me to behave myself. She’d raised me better. Swallowing a sigh, I’d laid my phone in Nicky’s hand and let him punch in the numbers.

  “Promise you’ll text me the info?” He’d passed it back to me with a twinkle in his eye.

  “Do you doubt my word, Nicky? If I say I’m going to do something, I will do it.” To make my point, I’d tapped in the address. “I plan on being there between seven and eight. That’s AM, you know.”

  He’d only smiled. “Luckily, I’m an early riser. See you there, Ky.”

  “Beautiful morning,” he called now as he approached me.

  “Spring is in the air,” I replied, thinking of Ed’s assertion with amusement.

  Nicky squinted and gazed up at the sky. “Not sure I’d go that far.”

  “I know. I was joking. The locals up here don’t seem to get my weather humor.” I rested my hands on my hips. “I wasn’t sure you were serious about coming today.”

  His lips curved into the ghost of a smile. “I always keep my promises, Ky. I want to see what you’re working on here. Your enthusiasm last night was contagious.”

  “Sure, it was.” I shook my head. “Seriously, Nicky. I appreciate that you’re trying to be nice, but whatever my grandparents might have told you, I don’t need the validation. I’m very secure about what I do.”

  “I’m not here out of a need to make you feel good, Kyra, nor am I here because your grandparents pressured me. I honestly want to find out more about your work, and—” He paused and shrugged. “I wanted the chance to spend a little more time with you.”

  My heart skipped a few beats, and I had to tell it sternly to settle down. “That’s sweet.”

  “Not really. It’s true.”

  I had no idea how to answer that. “Well . . . okay. Let me show you around here. What there is to show anyway.”

  “Perfect.” Nicky reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out sunglasses, which he slid onto his face. “I’m at your mercy.”

  I had a sudden flash of having this man at my mercy in a totally different situation and had to cough to bring myself back to reality as we wandered over the rich black dirt.

  “Over here is the control plot. We have tomato and pepper plants in the first rows.”

  “Is it a little early for those?” Nicky leaned down to run one fingertip over a bright green leaf.

  “No, this is the right time. We plant, and we pray there’s not another long freeze. One night or two that happen sporadically are fine, but nothing prolonged.” I watched Nicholas walk down the rows, trying not to notice how well the worn jeans fit his ass. My fingers curled just a little, and I wondered how that backside would feel in them.

  “And the trees over here?” He pointed to the far end of the field. “Are they part of your experiment, too?”

  “Yes. We know more about how natural farming works with trees, because the results are much clearer. Pruning, for example, is a huge intervention that changes how trees grow. Once they’ve been pruned, they can’t thrive without it.”

  “Ah.” Nicky nodded, rubbing his jaw. “Last night, you called what you’re doing intentional non-intervention. If pruning is an intervention�
�and you say it’s a big one—what else is there?”

  “Soil enhancement. Fertilization. Even irrigation, which is probably the oldest form of intervention we know. Here, in our control plot, we follow the traditional guidelines. We add nutrients to the soil, and we use some organic pest deterrents. We try to keep things as non-chemical as possible, but we’re definitely intervening.”

  “And on the other plot?” I couldn’t see his eyes, but his voice sounded as though he was interested. “What do you do there?”

  “Pretty much nothing.” I led him past the trees and down the path until we reached the experimental section. “I chose this particular plot because it’s lain fallow for over five years, with no fertilization or supplemental minerals. We turned the ground with a broad fork and planted the seeds. Since then, we’ve only observed. I’ll be running some soil tests in the next few days to verify that nothing has been manipulated, but that doesn’t affect the plants.”

  “What about insects and other outside threats—animals and so on?”

  I pointed to the far corner of the wide field. “We have fences all around as well as some sonic deterrents. It doesn’t keep everything out, but it does help. We also plant onions and garlic on the perimeters of each plot to try to deter the rabbits.”

  “But not, I would think, the bugs.” Nicky squatted to examine one of the pepper plants.

  “No,” I agreed. “We’ve planted basil, thyme and sage in alternating rows with the tomatoes and peppers. They attract insects that prey on the destructive bugs.”

  “Trap cropping?” He grinned up at me.

  “Yes.” I smiled back, a rush of pleasure sweeping over me. “Look at you, knowing your stuff.”

  “Full disclosure?” Nicky stood up next to me. He was closer than I expected. “I’ve been researching new farming techniques for the last year. I’d heard bits about the natural farming, but I haven’t seen it in action—and what you’re doing is more extreme than anything I’d imagined.”

  I tilted my head and nudged my sunglasses down my nose to stare at him. “Why have you been researching farming techniques and why didn’t you say more last night? You let me think . . .” I stopped.

  “I let you think what you were ready to believe anyway, that I’m the guy you read about in magazines—”

  “I don’t read about you in magazines. I don’t read magazines.” I crossed my arms. It was true. I didn’t actually read the articles. I just looked at the covers. Closely.

  “All right. Still, you can’t deny that you made assumptions about me. And since I don’t think you could have possibly based that opinion on the boy you knew when I was only sixteen, I have to wonder how and why you came to the conclusion that I’m some shallow idiot.”

  “I . . .” I didn’t have a good answer to that question. “I shouldn’t have assumed anything. You never acted like a spoiled brat when we were kids. You were always the sweetest and most generous boy I knew.”

  He chuckled. “Are you only saying that because I shamed you into it? Because I made you feel bad for not expecting more of me?”

  “No.” I rocked back on the worn heels of my boots. “I said it because it’s true. You were never anything but a good friend to me. You didn’t make me feel like a baby, ever, even though I was younger than you. And if you’ve been researching farming, you must have a good reason.”

  “I do.” He turned away from me, his eyes scanning the fields around us. “This is real, you know? The soil. The plants . . . all of it is real and reliable. It’s one of the reasons I like the work. But there’s more.” He swiveled his head and slipped off his sunglasses. “I want to tell you about it.”

  I smiled, fissures of pleasure zinging up my middle. There was no way I could help myself. Nicky sounded so much like the boy I’d known ten years ago.

  “I want to hear about it.”

  “Good. Excellent.” He jammed his hands into his pockets. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

  “What?” Taken by surprise, I stood there with my mouth gaping. “Tonight?”

  “Yes, tonight. I’ve got a lunch meeting in Bangor, so I’m spending the night at a hotel there. I have a suite. Come have dinner with me there.”

  “No.” I took a step backwards, away from him. “I couldn’t do that.”

  “Why not?” Nicky stepped forward. He wasn’t letting me evade him. “I want to talk to you. I want to get to know you again, Ky. Come to my hotel, and I’ll have dinner sent up for us. It’ll be just the two of us.”

  I couldn’t catch my breath. “Nicky . . .”

  “Do you know that no one calls me that anymore?” Reaching out, he laid his hand on my arm. “Not anyone. Back when we knew each other, that was my name. It was how my family knew me. But then they stopped. Now they all call me Nicholas. When you say my name, it reminds me of those summers and the way we used to be.”

  I hunched my shoulders, wrapping my arms around my middle. “But that was a long time ago, and we’re not kids anymore. I can’t eat dinner with you in your hotel room, Nicky. What if someone saw me?”

  He winced, and I felt so horrible, I rished to explain myself.

  “I didn’t mean it that way. I didn’t mean it about me. I only was saying if anyone saw me going into your room, they might wonder why you’re spending time with someone like me.”

  Nicky was silent for a moment, his cheek twitching a little. “Kyra, first of all, no one’s going to know who you’re coming to see. I don’t have people watching my every move.” He paused. “That’s not really true, because I have security, but I mean, there’re no photographers or anything. Not on a trip like this. And even if there were, I wouldn’t care. I don’t go around worrying about what people think of me. That would be a full-time job, and it would likely drive me insane.”

  “But—” I was yet to be convinced that this was a good idea.

  “But nothing. Come to the hotel. We’ll eat and we’ll talk and then you’ll go home. I’m not inviting you with plans for seduction in mind. I promise. We were always friends, weren’t we? Why can’t we be friends still? Or again?”

  I tossed up my hands. “I didn’t think you were planning to seduce me, Nicky. Good God, I’m not stupid. I’m just not sure it’s a good idea.”

  “If you can’t give me any reason better than that to say no, I think you’re going to have to say yes. I’m at The Charles Inn. My suite is 870. I’ll order dinner for seven o’clock, all right?”

  “Nicky.” I shook my head, but then he smiled at me, his lips turning up slowly as his eyes went warm and promising.

  “C’mon, Ky. We’ll talk farms and dirt and techniques and plants, and you’ll have such a good time, you’ll forget you had second thoughts. I promise.”

  I heaved a deep sigh of defeat. “Fine. Fine! I’ll go eat with you. But I’m not staying long. I have an early class tomorrow morning, and I hate driving in the dark.”

  “Do you want me to have a car sent so that you don’t have to drive?” He frowned.

  “Is that supposed to be a joke? Like last night, when you said you had a valet?” I didn’t want to jump to any more conclusions.

  “No, of course not. I don’t have a valet, but I can arrange a ride for you. That’s not so weird, is it? Don’t people do that? I could send a town car to pick you up.”

  “I guess so.” No one I knew did that, but then again, it wasn’t difficult to find cars for hire these days. “But no, thanks. I’ll be fine to drive myself home, as long as I don’t have to leave too late.”

  “I’ll have you back home before the clock strikes midnight, Cinderella.” Nicky winked at me.

  “Thanks, but I’m not fairy tale material. If I were anyone in that story, I’d probably end up as one of the mice who get zapped into coach drivers by the fairy godmother. That’s definitely more my speed.”

  “Oh, Ky.” Nicky laughed. “You are the least mousy woman I’ve ever known.”

  “You don’t know that. You knew me years ago, but maybe I
’ve lost my mojo since then. Maybe I’m ridiculously shy and quiet, and I sit at home binge-watching The Gilmore Girls every night.”

  “The what girls?”

  “American television.” I shook my head impatiently. “My point is that you really have no idea who I am anymore.”

  “That’s why I want you to eat with me tonight, so we can get reacquainted. Then, if you decide I’m not worth your time and attention, or I find out you’ve gotten boring, we can walk away. No hard feelings. How about that?”

  “All right. I’ll see you at seven. With no expectations.”

  “Absolutely none. Zero.” Nicky replaced his dark glasses, and I couldn’t see his eyes anymore. “You have my number. Text me if anything comes up, but I don’t expect it will, do you?”

  I shook my head.

  “Good.” Bending, he brushed his lips over my cheek in a chaste kiss goodbye. He barely touched me, but it was the closest we’d been since that night on the beach when he’d taken my breath away. I felt a little dizzy, but apparently, Nicky wasn’t similarly affected, since he strode down the path toward the small clearing where our cars were parked.

  I was so focused on watching him leave that I didn’t hear Ed approach from the other side of the field.

  “Did your . . . uh, friend like our work?”

  “Hmmmm?” I glanced at him, scowling. “Oh. Yes, I think he did.”

  “Does he go to Grant?”

  I barked out a laugh. “No, he’s not from around here at all.”

  “Ah.” Ed rubbed the back of his neck. “He just looked familiar, is all. I feel like I’ve seen him before, so I thought maybe it was around campus. Or town.”

  “I doubt it.” I didn’t think Ed was secretly pouring over the kind of celebrity magazines that featured Britain’s Prince Nicholas on the covers, but there was no escaping the pervasive media coverage of the royal family, even over here, even in the wilds of Maine. While my classmate probably wouldn’t be able to put his finger on exactly who the handsome visitor to our experimental fields was, something was dinging in his consciousness.