Soon six farmers stood around Frank looking over Avery’s shoulder records.
Not laughing.
Reading.
Earl stood several feet away.
He looked at Avery.
She understood.
Ninety days.
They were asking for her numbers.
Avery smiled.
Not triumphantly.
Almost.
Then a white delivery truck turned into the lane.
Nobody recognized it.
Avery frowned.
The truck continued toward the packing shed.
Maria from Bell & Pine Bakery stepped out of the passenger side.
Behind her came a man in a navy coat carrying a folder.
Avery walked over.
“What are you doing here?”
Maria smiled.
“Ruining your field day.”
“Who’s this?”
The man extended his hand.
“Samuel Ortega.”
“Midwest Fresh Cooperative.”
Avery knew the name.
Everyone did.
Midwest Fresh supplied produce and regional products to grocery chains, universities, hospitals, and independent markets across four states.
Avery shook his hand.
“What can I do for you?”
Samuel looked toward the orchard.
“Actually, I’m here because of your eggs.”
Avery blinked.
Maria smiled.
“I told them.”
Avery looked betrayed.
“Told them what?”
“That customers ask for them.”
Samuel opened the folder.
“We’re developing a regional farm line.”
“Eggs, fruit, cider, honey.”
“We heard about your integrated orchard project.”
Avery laughed nervously.
“From Facebook?”
“Initially.”
“Great.”
“Then from extension.”
“Better.”
Samuel continued:
“We don’t want a contract today.”
Avery relaxed slightly.
“We want to discuss what happens if your production can meet standards.”
“Egg volume?”
“And apples.”
Avery stopped.
“What apples?”
“Yours.”
“I had a terrible harvest.”
“This year.”
“Yes.”
“We buy next year.”
Avery stared.
Samuel looked toward the field-day crowd.
“We’re interested in farms that can document resource efficiency and reduced waste.”
“Not vague sustainability claims.”
“Records.”
He pointed toward the notebook Frank was still holding.
“That.”
Avery laughed.
“You’re kidding.”
“No.”
“What volume?”
“Too early.”
“Price?”
“Too early.”
“Then what are we talking about?”
“A pilot.”
He handed her the folder.
Potential supply assessment.
Third-party audit.
Food-safety plan.
Production estimates.
Egg packing requirements.
Apple grades.
Regional branding.
Nothing guaranteed.
Everything possible.
Frank approached.
“What’s that?”
Avery held the folder against her chest.
“None of your business.”
He smiled.
“Good news?”
“Maybe.”
Samuel looked toward Frank.
“You another orchard?”
Frank nodded.
“Sixty-eight acres.”
Samuel immediately asked:
“Records?”
Frank pointed toward Avery.
“Not like hers.”
Avery stared.
Frank shrugged.
“What?”
“That sounded like respect.”