“I wouldn’t say no to a cup of that.”
Not embarrassed, or guilty. Had she heard her mother say Joe? Not this Joe. Inconceivable, that her mother would sleep with the bachelor farmhand with his obstinate habits, rough appearance and social awkwardness. Joseph was practically a hermit. He didn’t have a girlfriend or a group of guffawing, beer-swilling buddies. He was just Joseph, living in his trailer, thankful for a place to park. Joseph, who used to yell at her to stop climbing the apple trees, then gently carried her home when she fell out of their branches. Melissa reached for another mug and transferred the steaming ceramic cone over. The aroma of fresh coffee mingled with the reassuring smell of woodsmoke. They both watched the descending water level in the paper filter. From upstair
