I looked from the little boy, who was about my age, to the man in the driver’s seat who I assumed was his dad. The boy was smiling real big and with his bright blue eyes and sandy blonde hair he looked real pretty.

“Okay.” The dad smiled, easily giving in, staring at the pie. He looked at me and asked, “Can we get a half dozen peaches and three root beers, please?”

Putting the peaches in a bag I nodded. “That’s 4.25.” I said handing the peaches and cold drinks to the family. “Where are you from?”

“We’re from Oregon!” The boy tells. “We moving here. I’m Alexander, can we be friends?”

I giggled and smiled real big. “You’re the English moving into the Yoder’s place, right? Momma told me they had English cousins.”

“Yea, I’m Daniel Yoder, this is my wife Megan and you already know my son Alexander.” I only then recognized the slightly faded accent Daniel had, an accent like mine. “Could you tell us where the house is, we’re a bit lost.”

“You’re really close, it’s actually the next driveway down.” I smiled.