36. Colton
thirty-six
Colton
I tear myself from the smell of the A-frame, leaving the apple pie behind. Kiara wrapped it in beeswax paper, left a thank-you note, and made sure I texted my friend so that either he or the housekeeper got the pie.
“You’re gonna have a lifetime of pies, and cupcakes, and napoleons. I’m gonna make you grow a belly.” She snorts in the most adorable way as we triple-check that we left everything in shipshape.
I swat her ass and look at her in the A-frame. I want to give her something like that, someday. A house we’d call our own.
But this isn’t for now, and as I hit I-91, the stuff I got waiting for me in Emerald Creek starts creeping back into my consciousness, quickly chased by what Kiara asked me concerning the variance application.
I’ll have to look at previous applications and their outcomes and also make sure Kiara’s application has all its i’s dotted and t’s crossed. “You should probably apply for your variance sooner than later,” I say while we’re coasting north. Kiara is quiet, and I’ll bet her thoughts are on work as well. “There’s a whole process of notifying neighbors and a wait period, as well as putting it on the agenda ahead of time.” That much I remember from all the legal material Ms. Angela gave me. “But I’ll look into it tonight.”
“Thank you,” she says softly. “I don’t want special treatment, right? Just advice.”
I grunt. I’ll give her advice, and if there’s something I can do to help, I’ll do it. Damn right I will.
“How do you like being on the board so far?”
I shrug. “It’s alright. Someone’s gotta do it. I like seeing people come in and discussing our problems.” I smirk and add, “But the cakes are the best part.” A lot of people bring food to share at the meetings, setting it in the back of the room. Kiara never fails to bring a cake or two.
“I draw the line at Louise bitching about Shy Rabit or asking that the noise ordinance be amended to start at eight p.m. The minute she goes to the mic, I’m outta there,” Kiara says.
“She should be on a temporary ban,” I joke.
She laughs at my suggestion. “See? No one ever thought of that. You’re adding value already.”
“What’s your favorite part of the meetings?” If she’s going to be in the audience, I’ll want to know what makes her tick, what annoys her. Not that I’m treating it like a performance, but I’m realizing we won’t be sitting next to each other, commenting on what’s going on. That’s the fun part of these meetings.
“Ah… where do I start? Declan’s reports on—”
Oh those. Priceless. I finish her sentence “Daisy’s whereabouts and another 911 call about the food at the Silver House.”
“Now what’s up with that place? I read about that on Echoes last summer but, honest to god, there was so much going on at the time I never thought to ask.”
I keep forgetting that Kiara didn’t grow up with all of Emerald Creek’s history. “The retirement house is funded by a trust left by some wealthy recluse, decades ago.”
“Wealthy recluse seems to be a theme here,” she says, referring to Louise, who funds the library and is on a personal crusade against romance books as well as anything remotely fun.
“Yeah well, this one’s hobby was old people, not books. She left a building to the town and an endowment for them to run it as a retirement home. The town has an oversight on how things are run there, so obviously when the potatoes aren’t cooked right, we hear all about it.”
“On the other hand, they don’t have much to think about, over there.”
She’s wrong about that. “They got plenty to keep’em busy other’n potatoes. They got yoga and music and tarot and petting zoo and knitting and crocheting (there’s a difference), and carriage rides and shows—we take ’em to shows!”
“How d’you know all that?”
“Mom’s on the board. She keeps us updated every Sunday. And she and Lynn hold a mini council about the Silver House on the Sundays that we go to the farm for dinner.”
“That’s sweet,” she whispers, her fingers trailing up my wrist.
“Yeah well—how well we treat our old folk is a matter of pride here. And those in need.”
“That too,” she murmurs almost too low for me to hear. Louder, she adds, “I can talk to Shannon and Lynn about doing some consulting for the Silver House. I’ll ask Chloe to send her chef. I remember her mentioning something about that last summer.”
What is she talking about? “Consulting?”
“Yeah, pretty much, you go into a restaurant, look at their menus, the way they prepare the food, and you propose changes. It’s fun.” She lets go of my hand and starts making motions in the air. “Depending on what the objective is, the proposal is going to wildly vary. Let’s say you want to cut costs, you look at both what’s on the menu and where it’s sourced. Next, you observe the kitchen to see if you can reorganize the work to have less payroll—”
I look at her sideways. Who is this cutthroat person and what did she do with Kiara? “You fire people?”
She shrugs. “If your business is losing money, and the choice is between losing one or two employees or folding three months from now… Then yes, you downsize .”
I suppose if anyone is able to make decisions based on reason and not emotion, it’d be Kiara. And I’m not saying this is a bad thing. She’s had to fight for her survival and cut people out of her life who should have been supporting her and were just dragging her down.
“There’s other ways to save money without losing workforce,” she continues, “like extending your open hours and offering light fare before and after regular service. Again, those costs need to be calculated against the sales you can project.”
With the way her brain is wired, I’m glad she’s finally taking the steps to own her business. She’ll be crazy successful, and I’ll do everything in my power to make it happen.
“Anyway, back to the Silver House,” she’s saying, “that’d be easy peasy. Just fix up the recipes. Could be a good project for the apprentices around town. Talk to your mom about it.”
Her energy and rationale make me so goddamn proud of her. I can’t believe I get to call this woman my own. “I will,” I answer, my voice catching. I clear my throat.
“What?”
Emotion overcomes me as I brace to ask the simplest question. “Would you-would you want to come?” I feel myself blushing like a fucking teenager. “To Mom and Dad’s. With me, I mean. I-I know you go there often and obviously you’re one of their favorite people and you don’t need an invitation from me to come, but I meant as my… as my… as my… I mean I’ll tell Mom and Dad we’re together. Obviously. That’s what I meant.” I clear my throat again, squinting and focusing back on the road.
She stares at me, barely containing her laughter at the way I’m fumbling my words. She doesn’t need an invitation from me to eat at Mom and Dad’s. She’s had dinner there often, spur of the moment things when she was bringing a cake for one of Mom’s groups and ended up staying for dinner, or more planned-out evenings with Chris, Skye, Grace, and me. From the beginning, Mom has brought her into the fold of our family.
It’s going to be interesting to see their reaction at the fact that we’re together.
“As your what?” she teases me.
“Hm?”
“You asked if I wanted to come as your…?”
My mouth twitches. Kiara wants to hear me call her my girlfriend. That’s cute and shit, but I don’t really care about that stage, since my goal is to call her my wife. But I feel like having a little fun with everyone. “I got an idea.”
“Yeah?”
“Next Saturday, I’m gonna call Mom and tell her I’m bringing my girlfriend.” She squeezes my hand. Who knew it would take so little to make her happy? I shouldn’t have discarded that so quickly. Then I lay out my plan. “Mom’s gonna be pissed. It’s gonna be epic.”
She pulls her hand away. “What’s so funny about that?”
“I’ll let her stew a little, make her believe it’s someone she doesn’t know.”
Kiara snorts and twines our hands back together. “Yeah, like she’s gonna buy that. Did you forget where we live?”
I bring her knuckles to my lips, a smile pulling my cheeks to the point where they start to hurt. “Shit, you’re right.” There’s a good chance everyone in Emerald Creek already knows we’ve disappeared together for twenty-four hours. One more week and the whole town will ask when we’re tying the knot.