“Anytime you want fresh produce, just let me know.

The tomatoes will be ripe in July and the green beans by August.”

Chad gave a curt nod without a single smile, turned around, and slid his glass patio door shut behind him.

Dad stood near the fence for a long moment holding the basket of berries before walking back toward me to place them in the grass.

“Not big on fresh fruit,” Dad mused aloud.

“How about that.”