Page 72 of Devil Within
“Yeah, I’m sorry.”
I sit back in my seat, pulling my knees to my chest as we pass the sign:
Welcome To The Hamlet Of Hampton Bays: Settled In 1790 As Good As Ground.
44
Matt
Parker
I had been to other parts of the Hamptons before, but none can come to a close comparison with the vibrant green manicured, rolling hills and local farms we see as we drive through the hamlet.
With grand mansions and sleek, modern beach houses, Hampton Bays is undoubtedly a playground for the wealthy.
“Do you mind if we pick up a few things from the farmers market?” Hudson asks. “I told my mom we’d be coming out here, so we usually use the market every Saturday for supplies.”
It’s the first time he’s spoken to me throughout the drive ever since we talked about his sister. I can’t help but feel sorry and horrible for bringing it up and I can’t even comfort him when he’s giving me the cold shoulder.
“I don’t mind,” I tell him as he gets off the main road and makes a left onto a dirt road.
AGood Ground Farmers Marketbanner hangs from two poles as we enter an enormous parking space flooded with people in their expensive garb out for the weekend.
When we get out of the car, Hudson walks around to my side, before reaching into his pocket and handing me a thick wad of cash.
I momentarily frown in confusion. “What are you doing?”
“Get whatever you want,” he says. “Do shopping or whatever.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want anything and I hate shopping.”
“I didn’t ask you to take it. I’m giving it to you,” Hudson says flatly, before stepping closer and stuffing the wad of cash into the back of my shorts pocket.
He’s extremely close as his fingers slide into my pocket and his hand stays a little too long on my butt. He playfully squeezes my ass and then lets go of me.
His dark green eyes scan mine before he gives me a casual smirk and turns around before walking away towards the market.
I’m left wondering if he’s back in a good mood as I trail after him while keeping a distance at the same time. I don’t want to make him mad. The market is vibrant and each stall we pass is teeming with fresh fruit, vegetables and cuts of meat to clothes, postcards, tiny trinkets and various bottles of newly aged wine.
Some stalls are selling freshly cured cream cheeses, creamy salted homemade butter, crunchy milk biscuits and honeycomb from local honey farms.
I really don’t plan on using the cash he gave me, so I continue to follow him and watch silently as he stops at various stalls.
“Can I help you with those?” I ask Hudson, pointing to the large brown paper bags in his hands.
He silently hands them to me without even casting me a look and I assume that he’s still not in a good mood as we head to a few more stalls, where he buys more food.
When we return to the car, Hudson and I leave the bags in the back along with our backpacks before getting into the car.
“Are you okay?” I carefully ask as he starts the car up and pulls out of the parking area.
“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m fine,” he says as we get back onto the main road.
We don’t talk again for the rest of the drive as he continues for fifteen more minutes on the main road, before taking the next exit on his left.
The road gets narrow and more lavishly built houses come into view on either side of us.
I stare out of the window, glancing up at the tall leafy trees that reach high into the sky, feeling more confused than ever about coming on this trip.