He pocketed his treasure trove, and together, we made our way back to the cooler, me thinking of the many faces of jewels and how, in the right circumstances, all of us could be those rubbed-smooth bits of glass, just waiting for someone like Levi to think they were worth hanging on to.

We returned from Nectar Creek Farm with purple stains on our fingers and tongues. With Levi’s help, I carried wooden crates of blueberries inside Busy’s, much to Lucy’s amazement. Using her back, she held the door open and gaped after us. Her face was shiny, tendrils of hair stuck against her forehead in damp curls. “You guys picked a shit-ton,” she said.

Inside, the place was stuffed to the gills. Every single table was full. The book club ladies were back, making no secret that they were more interested in the crumb cake than in conversing—they were eating more than they were talking.

Lucy returned to the clamor, shuffling between tables, her hair escaping her messy bun. Her pencil worked feverishly over a notepad as she took orders.

Ralph was engaged in a heated game of chess with one of the fishermen from the docks, and their match had garnered a small but vocal audience of other old-timers. From the way he was rubbing his hand over the shiny baldness of his head in swift, agitated motions, I could tell that Ralph was trying to worm his way out of a corner.

Middle schoolers were curled up in the corner booths. A few of the girls were resting their heads on their friends’ shoulders as they slurped frothy beverages and scrolled through their phones. The guys were at the table next to them, an impressive number of empty milkshake glasses pushed to the center as they gestured animatedly through some story, voices overlapping and fighting for dominance. There was also a steady, impatient line at the counter. Tom was working the register, apologizing profusely, and his elbow knocked over a to-go cup.

“Oh shit,” said Lucy, rewinding her thick brown hair into a messy bun.

Tom would never ask me to pitch in on my day off, but I didn’t hesitate to grab my apron. “Lucy, can you get those berries in the fridge? I’ll take over here.” I shot a welcoming smile at a customer.

“I’ll help, too,” Levi said, slinging his arm around my shoulder just long enough to give me a kiss on the cheek. “Hand me an apron, ladies.”

My heart went all soft and squishy. “You’ve got it,” I said, pulling a fresh one out of a drawer.

Lucy shot him a smile of thanks and joined me on the other side of the counter. “Levi, do you think you could slice and plate four pieces of chocolate cake? And take this tray of coffees to”—she pointed—“that table?”

“Sure thing.” Levi reached behind the counter to grab a knife.