“Don’t mind him.” Mrs. Lowell beamed. “He’s very committed when it comes to the pie-tasting contest. Here, why don’t I get you two something to drink and we can get to know one another?”
“Ma, you don’t gotta—” Aiden began.
“I’d love some hot cider, if you don’t mind,” I cut in, flashing him a smirk.
“Oh, lovely! Mr. Kanswell has a little stand just over there.”
Without any hesitation, Mrs. Lowell took my hand and dragged me across the park, Aiden tailing behind with a face redder than a beet. I stumbled to keep up with the woman’s pace, surprised at how spry she was for someone her age. The gray streaks in her hair apparently didn’t mean anything to her.
Soon enough, we were all settled on one of the fold-out tables, cider cups in hand. Aiden looked like he’d rather be anywhere e
