The Orchard at the Edge of Town by Shirlee McCoy Page A

in, knowing his daughter would continue to press her point. At eight, she insisted she wanted to be a veterinarian. Simon was convinced she’d grow up to become an attorney. “How about you girls bring the kittens into the kitchen and give them the water there? I need to show Apricot—”
    â€œYour name is Apricot?” Rori gasped, her dark chocolate eyes wide, some of her natural shyness disappearing in the face of the wonder of Apricot’s name.
    â€œYes, but most of my friends call me Anna.”
    â€œBut Apricot is such a pretty name. Like a fairy-tale princess name,” Rori breathed, and Simon could see all the little-girl dreams in her eyes.
    â€œRori,” he began, wanting to stop his daughter before she got too caught up in the fantasy. “She’s not a fairy-tale princess. She’s just—”
    â€œVery flattered that you like my name,” Apricot broke in with a gentle smile. “I never thought of it as all that special, but I think after today, I will. Give your sister the water, and I’ll hand you the kitten box. You’ll be careful with them, right?”
    â€œYes.” Rori nodded solemnly. No overflowing enthusiasm, no jumping and squealing. She was the quiet twin, the one Simon worried about most, because her feelings were so close to the surface and so easily hurt.
    Too bad he couldn’t put her in a bubble and keep her there, safe from all the meanness in the world.
    She handed the water to her sister, who took it without protest.
    A minor miracle considering the kid always wanted to be in charge.
    Like Rori, she seemed to have fallen under Apricot’s spell, her big brown eyes wide with wonder as Apricot handed over the kitten box.
    â€œIs your hair real or is it the clip-on stuff that my first-grade teacher wore at her wedding?”
    â€œWhat kind of question is that?” Simon asked.
    â€œOne I want an answer to. I’ve never seen a grown woman with hair as long as hers.” Evie didn’t seem at all apologetic. “And are those your real boobs? Jackson Anderson at school says most women have fake ones. I told him that only women in magazines have them, and he told me I was stupid.”
    â€œEnough!” Simon commanded.
    What kind of school was he sending his kids to, if that was the kind of conversation they were having?!
    â€œBut, Daddy,” Evie said. “It’s a reasonable question, and I just want a reasonable answer. I’m going to be a woman one day, and I have to know these things.”
    Apricot laughed, and Simon would have laughed too, if it had been anyone else’s daughter making the pronouncement.
    â€œYou’re eight,” he muttered. “You should be worried about bedtime and lunch boxes.”
    â€œJackson says—”
    â€œHow about we discuss Jackson and his opinions later?” he cut in. “The kittens are thirsty and they’re probably hungry too. Take them into the kitchen and feed them some of that food Aunt Daisy keeps here for Sweetums.”
    â€œSweetums?” Apricot asked as the girls walked away.
    â€œThe cat from hell. I think she got him from a breeder who charges an arm and a leg for squashfaced kittens with bad attitudes.”
    She laughed, following him into the living room, the scent of summer sunshine filling the air as she moved. “I’m getting the impression you’re not Sweetums’s biggest fan.”
    â€œHe scratched up my favorite recliner. I had a friend reupholster it, and he clawed it up again.”
    â€œIs that the recliner?” She gestured to the chair he’d bought a few months after he and the girls had moved in. The sides of the chair looked like they’d been put through a giant paper shredder.
    â€œHow’d you guess?” he asked drily.
    â€œI’m not always as clueless as I was the day I accepted my ex’s proposal,” she responded with a smile that made her eyes