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“Your wife?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I still do that sometimes. I meant
my late wife. She passed away a couple of years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her mind flashing back to her
conversation with Jo.
What’s his story?
You should ask him, Jo had countered.
Jo had obviously known that his wife had died, but hadn’t said
anything. Odd.
Alex didn’t notice that her mind had wandered. “Thank you,” he
said, his voice subdued. “She was a great person. You would have
liked her.” A wistful expression crossed his face. “But anyway,”
he finally added, “she swore by the place. It’s organic, and the
family still harvests by hand. Usually, the produce is gone within
hours, but I set a little aside for you, in case you wanted to try
some.” He smiled. “Besides, you’re a vegetarian, right? A
vegetarian will appreciate these. I promise.”
She squinted up at him. “Why would you think I’m a vegetarian?”
“You’re not?”
“No.”
“Oh,” he said, pushing his hands into his pockets. “My mistake.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ve been accused of worse.”
“I doubt that.”
Don’t, she thought to herself. “Okay.” She nodded. “I’ll take the
vegetables. And thank you.”