Assumptions

Alex

“It’s not that early,” I argued. “Roosters were up hours ago.”

“It’s seven, Alex. Seven. That’s early.”

“I need coffee,” I told her.

She turned around, glowering at me as she reached for a mug. “Do you know they sell coffee at the gas station and the diner, and hell, I know you have your own coffee maker.”

“I like your coffee,” I said with a grin.

“What happened? You did something. I know that look.”

“Me?” I asked innocently. “I did nothing.”

Five minutes later, we were sitting on her couch, both of us with a cup of coffee cradled in our hands. “I assume you’ve already been out to Oliver’s farm?”

I nodded. “Damion’s farm.”

“Who’s Damion?”

“Damion is Oliver’s grandson. He’s back.”

“Back from where?” she asked with confusion.

“New York City. That’s where he’s been living. He’s back because he inherited the farm. That’s who Oliver gave it to. That’s who Oliver was trying to tell me was coming to take over it.”

She rubbed her eyes. “It’s too early. I’m so confused.”

“Damion is going