After too much turkey and two pieces of pumpkin pie, Farrah opened her laptop to fight off the effects of tryptophan. Or maybe she’d simply eaten so much she felt like she needed to sleep for days.
No matter what, she wanted to show her parents the agribusiness degree she’d researched at the University of Vermont. “It’s right here in Burlington,” she said, turning the computer toward them. Her mom sipped her coffee and peered at the screen.
“It goes right along with what I already do at the Bybee’s.” She didn’t bother to call the farm Darren’s, though she should. He hadn’t renamed it yet. Hadn’t put up a new sign. She’d watched him toss two bags into the back of his truck a couple of days ago and rumble down the lane toward the highway. He’d probably gone to either Sam’s or Logan’s for t
