17. Violet
Chapter 17
Violet
Flour covers my clothes. My fingers sting from where I burnt them against the side of the pan. I set the lasagna to cool on the counter and started to make dough for breadsticks and needed some more counter space. Of course, I forgot it was hot and tried to push it over. My burned pointer finger and thumb have my brain to thank for that one. I mumbled profanities under my breath and ran my hand under some cold water which temporarily eased the pain, but now it tingles.
I could have made this whole little “I’ll provide dinner text” a lot easier on myself and ordered something from the diner. But I’ve been in the mood for Italian for weeks, so it was a no-brainer to make something myself. I thought it would be a walk in the park. I always make homemade bread, pasta dishes, and desserts. Olive taught me a lot of her recipes. But the fact that he said lasagna is his favorite food makes me so nervous for his reaction.
I’ve been a ball of nerves ever since he said, It’s a date? I know he didn’t mean it that way, but I’m getting used to being friends. I wouldn’t know how to juggle more.
The timer for the breadsticks goes off and I pull them out of the oven, taking extra care with the oven mitts so that I don’t slip up again. The entire spread is finished. Lasagna, breadsticks, a side salad, and my award-winning turtle brownie cheesecake. Okay maybe I’m stretching the truth a little, but Olive thinks that, so it must be, she's an amazing baker.
The clock reads five after six. I plop on the couch to wait. If this were a date, I might have checked in the mirror to fix my crazy hair or changed my clothes to some that aren’t covered in flour, maybe even put on my nice jeans. Instead, I am in an oversized purple T-shirt that has an image of a chicken that says, “I may look calm, but in my mind I’ve pecked you three times.” My black leggings are covered in flour dust; I have one sock that is red with chickens on it and another that is yellow with cats on my feet. My apartment is small but efficient. The place is mostly an open concept, the decorating style I was going for was biophilic. The living room and kitchen are connected as soon as you open the door. The island in the kitchen serves as the table, with three bar stools for seating. The couch faces a television in the corner of the room. A bookshelf next to the couch houses hundreds of novels from Cat’s it has to at least have our names on the back.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” He grins devilishly. I wonder what he’s conspiring.
We make our plates and they are both filled to the brim with steaming food. My mouth waters at the sight.
“Wow. This is delicious. And you remembered this was my favorite,” he says while chewing.
“Thanks, I think that was the first compliment you ever gave me. And yes, how could I forget, it was one of the first random facts I learned about you,” I say, taking a big bite of a breadstick.
“Don’t get used to it. That was a slip up.” He chuckles while chewing on more lasagna. “What other random facts did you pick up on?”
“One, you love to solve a puzzle even though you deny it. Two, you have an annoying streak with texting. Three, you’re a foodie just like me. Admit it. And four, I think you secretly love it here and don’t want to leave.”
“Spot on. And of course I am a foodie.” He takes a huge bite of lasagna to prove his point. “I figured some things out about you too.”
“What’s that?”
“You habitually wear messy buns when you’re comfortable. Your hair is always falling into your eyes, which aids your proclivity to be clumsy. And you don’t let people pass your barriers. Some may try to get close to you, but they don’t know what’s going on underneath it all. I still don’t.”
He is spot on. It’s all true. A little too true. I do put up my walls with people. I don’t like to share everything I’m struggling with. I’d rather put on a smile and keep going.
“You’re right.” I shrug, twirling my fork between my fingers. “So, about this treasure hunt. What’s your plan of attack?” I say between mouthfuls of salad. “I don’t think there is a way to plan for something like this.”
“Well,” he pauses to finish chewing a breadstick. “I think we need to come up with a list of potential clue ideas. Do some research. We can think about how to solve riddles on the spot. So at least we’re a little prepared for what is to come.”
“I didn’t realize you were so good at planning things out,” I say while taking a sip of ice water.
“I was an accountant for eight years. So some could say I’m good with numbers, budgeting, and planning. It all sort of compiled together with my experience.”
“Oh, I had no clue that’s what you did. So, If I ever need small business advice I can come to you?”
“Yeah, I could help. Only because we’re friends now. If you asked me a few days ago I would have said no.” I chuckle and shove his arm.
We both grab seconds as we continue to chat. And I grab a pen and notebook to jot down ideas as we strategize. This is going to be a long night, but I don’t mind it.
“Let's start brainstorming. If you were Constance, what kind of places would you hide things?” I say.
“I don’t know why I have this feeling they’re going to hide the last clue in the chicken coop.”
“Oh! Good point! They always seem to incorporate some type of animal into the mix.” I scribble down that idea. “I also have a feeling they might put a clue in my shop, in a flowerpot or something, since all the stores are free range.”
“That sounds like something they would do. Especially since there are so many plants. It would take forever to find which one had the clue. It would be almost impossible.” He takes a bite of salad as I scribble this idea under another bullet.
“Hey! I don’t have that many pots.” Dustin gives me a knowing stare. “Okay, I do have a lot of pots and plants.”
“Oh. My. God. If I died right now. I would die a happy man. This could be my last meal.”
“Dramatic much.”
“This is the best cheesecake I have ever put in my mouth,” his eyes widen, “but don’t tell my grandmother I said that.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” I put my fork down on the empty plate. “How old are you? Thirty? I think she can handle it.”
“Excuse me, you can’t disrespect her cooking like that, not unless you never want to eat it again. She will not take kindly to insults.”
I chuckle. “Well then my lips are sealed.” I motion to my mouth, zipping it shut.
“Can I have the recipe?”
“Absolutely!”
After a few moments of comfortable silence he asks, “I have a random question, who calls you Vivi? I always hear Olive call you by the nickname. Where did it start from?”
“It’s actually not that interesting.” I smile, “I guess it had a funny start. Owen (Olive’s brother) has a daughter, her name’s Octavia. She’s two. She couldn’t pronounce my name when they brought her into my flower shop. She would call me Vi. And it turned into Vivi. Olive started using the nickname. Everyone picked it up within a few days. They’ve called me that ever since.”
“I like it. Short and sweet. Just like you.”
“Aw…shucks. You’re making me blush.”
His phone starts ringing. The sound breaks through the silence. “I gotta take this, it's my grandpa,” he says and I nod. “Hello?—Hello?—Hello?—Hello?” he says into the phone over and over again. “Yes. I’ll be home soon. Okay. Bye.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything is great. He just wanted to make sure I did everything on the list he left me today. He doesn’t trust that I can handle it all yet. And I had to wait a few minutes for his phone to connect and it kept going in and out.”
“Does his phone not work?”
“It never works. He won’t let me set up anything to make the connection better.” Dustin taps his chin in deep concentration. “Which gives me an idea. Could you do me a huge favor? If you do this for me, I will owe you big time.”
“Depends on the favor. Go ahead.”
I think I would do anything he asked at this point. The way he's looking at me could have me melting into a puddle.
“Could you charm my grandparents and keep them distracted for an hour while I set up an antenna on their roof without them finding out?”
“No way, are you kidding? I don't want to be an accomplice to your failed plan and give them a reason to hate me!”
“I promise they won’t hate you; if anything, they’ll just be mad at me. To be honest I’m just worried that if something happens, they will have no way to call for help if the service doesn’t work.”
How am I supposed to refuse that? He just wants to keep them safe. “Okay, I’ll do it. When?”
“That was easier than I thought. I have to order everything, but as soon as it comes, I’ll let you know.”
“Okay, I guess I’ll be your accomplice.”
Dustin and I finish planning and devouring dessert. We chat some more about random things. Mostly about our crazy town and all of the shenanigans the gossip mill pulls. I had a great night hanging out with him. It was rare to relax for an evening and let some of my guards down for the night.
We make our way down to the shop doors in front of the street. The stars contrast against the fading dark sky. Beams of light above each storefront flicker with the change of day to night. Dustin and I stand in front of my shop.
“Bye Vivi.” Dustin smirks.
“Bye Dustin.”