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Rita
picked
up
one
of
the
beans
and
inspected
it
.
The
unroasted
specimen
was
cool
and
pleasant
to
the
touch
.
She
imagined
the
beans
basking
in
the
sun
of
an
azure
sky
that
spread
all
the
way
to
the
horizon
.
Her
father
had
told
her
about
the
skies
over
the
islands
.
Rita
didn
’
t
mind
that
the
skies
in
Pittsfield
were
a
thin
and
watery
blue
,
but
just
once
she
wanted
to
see
the
skies
that
had
filled
those
beans
with
the
warmth
of
the
sun
.
"
Do
you
like
coffee
,
young
lady
?
"
"
Not
really
.
It
’
s
not
sweet
.
I
prefer
chocolate
.
"
"
Pity
.
"
"
It
smells
nice
,
though
.
And
these
ones
definitely
smell
best
of
all
,
"
Rita
said
.
"
Ah
,
then
there
’
s
hope
for
you
yet
.
What
do
you
say
,
care
to
take
over
my
shop
when
I
retire
?
"
Rita
’
s
father
,
who
until
then
hadn
’
t
looked
up
from
the
coffee
beans
,
interrupted
.
"
Don
’
t
put
any
ideas
in
her
head
.
We
need
someone
to
carry
on
the
farm
,
and
she
’
s
all
we
’
ve
got
.
"
"
Then
maybe
she
can
find
a
promising
young
boy
or
girl
for
me
to
pass
on
my
shop
to
,
eh
?
"
"
I
don
’
t
know
,
I
’
ll
think
about
it
,
"
Rita
answered
with
indifference
.
Her
father
set
down
the
bag
of
coffee
he
’
d
been
admiring
and
kneeled
to
look
Rita
in
the
eye
.
