7
On Tuesday afternoon, Rose looked up from the garden she was plotting to find Shelby at her gate. The dogs barked, excited by the presence of someone who wasn’t Rose.
“Hey there,” Shelby said, holding up a plastic grocery bag. “Brought you some muscadine grapes.”
Rose waved her in. She could see that the large, sweet grapes were dark purple in color, the perfect shade. Shelby let herself in the gate, careful not to let the dogs out in the process, and sat the grapes down on the ground.
“Awww, thanks,” Rose said.
“No problem. We have beaucoup that grow on the farm. My mom was begging me to give some away, and I thought of you.”
“Ohhh, thanks. I actually really like muscadine juice.”
“Well, there you go. That’s two problems solved.” She stuck a Superman pose. “Where to next, Lois?”
