“Oh no, not even close. All that Puritan missionary fumbling with Mary has turned you into a little bit of a cold fish. When you tell me that you’re hale and hearty, well, I just don’t feel it radiating from your loins. It’s time for you to have a good fuck for once in your life. It’ll loosen you up a little.”
The door to Sage’s office opened and two agents stepped into the room. The agents led Governor Birch and Sage out of the office. The door closed. William heard the lock on the door click. He turned and saw the blonde aide silhouetted in the light of the bathroom door, slowly unbuttoning her blouse. She slid the blouse over her shoulder and let it drop to the floor.
“You can do anything you want to me, sweetie,” the woman said, slowly …show more content…
William turned the BMW onto Blue Hills Road and drove towards the orchard. The overdeveloped, middle class suburbs of Wallingford, Connecticut gave way to a rural landscape. Rows of fallow fields used to grow pumpkins, gourds and squash spread out along the shoulder of Blue Hills Road. On the rolling hills above the estate, long, straight rows of barren peach, plum, nectarine, and apple trees stretched out to the horizon.
“How many acres are we talking about?” Mary asked.
“The entire farm is three hundred and fifty acres. Back in the day, it was over five hundred acres, but as you can see they sold off a lot of the land to developers,” William said, head nodding towards a subdivision of raised ranch houses and a condominium complex that edged the border of the orchard. “There are about two hundred and fifty acres of apple orchards, thirty or so acres are used to grow nectarines, plums and peaches. The rest of the land is used for pumpkins, squash, gourds and other vegetables.”
“Fruit,” Mary said.
“What.”
“Those are fruits, not …show more content…
Bergeron’s hand.
“Mornin’,” Mr. Bergeron said.
“This is my wife, Mary, and our son, James.”
“Come on in,” Mr. Bergeron said.
They followed Mr. Bergeron down a hallway. The 1860’s farmhouse had undergone a few minor renovations and updates during its century-and-a-half on the same foundation, but the dwelling remained largely unchanged. The home radiated the strength that comes from six generations of farmers who tended to the home. Scuffs from countless work boots covered the floors, and hints of fertilizer, dirt, and perspiration filled the air. The farmhouse had never known a gentleman farmer; the warmth and pride that fills the hearth of a family that tills its living from the soil through good times and bad consumed the dwelling.
“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” Mr. Bergeron asked, motioning for everyone to have a seat at the kitchen table.
“No, thank you,” William said.
William sat at the table. The realtor removed a manila folder from a briefcase and placed it on the table. Mr. Bergeron looked at the folder and sat down heavily in a chair at the head of the
The door to Sage’s office opened and two agents stepped into the room. The agents led Governor Birch and Sage out of the office. The door closed. William heard the lock on the door click. He turned and saw the blonde aide silhouetted in the light of the bathroom door, slowly unbuttoning her blouse. She slid the blouse over her shoulder and let it drop to the floor.
“You can do anything you want to me, sweetie,” the woman said, slowly …show more content…
William turned the BMW onto Blue Hills Road and drove towards the orchard. The overdeveloped, middle class suburbs of Wallingford, Connecticut gave way to a rural landscape. Rows of fallow fields used to grow pumpkins, gourds and squash spread out along the shoulder of Blue Hills Road. On the rolling hills above the estate, long, straight rows of barren peach, plum, nectarine, and apple trees stretched out to the horizon.
“How many acres are we talking about?” Mary asked.
“The entire farm is three hundred and fifty acres. Back in the day, it was over five hundred acres, but as you can see they sold off a lot of the land to developers,” William said, head nodding towards a subdivision of raised ranch houses and a condominium complex that edged the border of the orchard. “There are about two hundred and fifty acres of apple orchards, thirty or so acres are used to grow nectarines, plums and peaches. The rest of the land is used for pumpkins, squash, gourds and other vegetables.”
“Fruit,” Mary said.
“What.”
“Those are fruits, not …show more content…
Bergeron’s hand.
“Mornin’,” Mr. Bergeron said.
“This is my wife, Mary, and our son, James.”
“Come on in,” Mr. Bergeron said.
They followed Mr. Bergeron down a hallway. The 1860’s farmhouse had undergone a few minor renovations and updates during its century-and-a-half on the same foundation, but the dwelling remained largely unchanged. The home radiated the strength that comes from six generations of farmers who tended to the home. Scuffs from countless work boots covered the floors, and hints of fertilizer, dirt, and perspiration filled the air. The farmhouse had never known a gentleman farmer; the warmth and pride that fills the hearth of a family that tills its living from the soil through good times and bad consumed the dwelling.
“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” Mr. Bergeron asked, motioning for everyone to have a seat at the kitchen table.
“No, thank you,” William said.
William sat at the table. The realtor removed a manila folder from a briefcase and placed it on the table. Mr. Bergeron looked at the folder and sat down heavily in a chair at the head of the