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One Shipment of Olive Oil: From Jaén to Montreal
Carmen stood in the yard near Jaén with the invoice in her hand. The truck doors were open. The boxes were for a food shop in Montreal, and she wanted them on the road before the afternoon sun reached the bottles.
Mateo, the driver, had already lifted the first stack. "Is this the oil on the paper?" he asked.
"Extra virgin," Carmen said. "The shop asked for that. Not the oil we sell here in town."
Her father, Rafael, came out of the packing room. He had taken a bottle from the open box by the door. He turned it until she could read the label. It was their market oil. The invoice did not name that oil.
She wanted to close the box and send the truck. If she did