The afternoon sun was warm, but all of summer’s scorch was out of it. Now the deep haze of fall had come so that the land lay quietly, waiting for the harvest. Daniel picked a large crimson tomato from the vine then took a big bite of it. The juice ran down his chin. He munched on the tomato. It was obvious he was at ease with the world. “If you don’t stop eating those tomatoes, we won’t have any left for the table.” “Don’t ever put off pleasures, wife,” Daniel said cheerfully. He reached out and hugged her. She looked up at him, and he kissed her on the lips. “Becky, my love, you’re sweeter than the tomatoes.” “You choose the strangest times to get romantic, Daniel.” “Anytime is a good time to find romance.” “Ah, yes. Love among the Tomatoes. That would make a good title of a dime novel.” Contentedly they picked tomatoes until their baskets were full. Then they returned to the house. As they seated themselves on the veranda, through the open windows they could hear Zemira in the parlor, talking to Callie Jo.
