Chapter 11
HONEY
After I wash Monster, I decide to bathe in the deep claw-foot tub in the bathroom. My bones need to soak. And yes, I do eat in the tub. I make a plate of cheese and crackers and close the door to the bathroom, so Monster doesn’t try to sneak a nibble at it while I read.
Because I wasn’t able to retrieve anything from my house, there’s nothing here in this cottage that was Cain’s or Trudi’s.
Nothing that was theirs or once held by them.
Except my body. Every time I slip off my clothes, I can see the evidence of Trudi.
A scar on my lower abdomen from the emergency C- section, the weight I gained in my stomach that—even though I’m thin—never quite vanished to my pre-pregnancy state. The saggier, post-nursing breasts.
Already, everything is rounder. My breasts, my stomach. I’ve tried to work out the math in my head, counting back, trying to remember my last period. It’s been months. Three months? How could I not have realized? How could I have so abysmally lost track of what my body was doing?
While I’m toweling off, there’s a knock at the door.
My whole body stiffens until I remember John’s note.
I pull my clothes on in a rush and peek out the front window.
He’s standing there on the porch, running his fingers through his hair, a Dot’s Divine bakery box in one hand, and a Greene’s hardware bag strung on his arm.
I run to the door and fling it open, my whole body grinning from head to toe.
“I got the wildflowers,” I tell him. “They’re beautiful.”
He nods, his expression unreadable. “I can’t stay. Something’s come up.” He hands me the box and the bag. “I was going to make you supper, Wren. But I need to go visit someone.” Monster pushes out the cracked door.
I wonder if the someone is a woman. My heart squeezes just thinking about it.
He’s definitely not working. I cock my head and study him.
He’s wearing a button-up shirt, the arms rolled up to show off his forearms. The curls on the nape of his neck are gone and I miss them already, but his beard is neatly trimmed, and he smells scrumptious.
“You got a haircut?”
“Yep.”
“You look cute.”
“I take offense at that.”
I move in closer.
“Are you sniffing me?” he asks.
“Maybe.”
“What’s your assessment?”
“If you’re going on a date, then she has no chance.”
“That good, huh?”
“That good.”
He’s leaning in close, a slow smile forming on his lips. I want to ask him to stay, to not go wherever it is he’s going. He’s so close that I could just pull him a little closer and—
“See you tomorrow?” he says, his voice hoarse, his eyes on my lips.
“It seems inevitable in such a small town.”
“Looking forward to running into you again. But could you get iced coffee this time?”
I smile. “Maybe you could just watch where you’re going.” He hands me the Dot’s Divine box and turns toward the steps. He stops and is still for a moment before he pivots back toward me, his jaw tight. “Wren?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you like salmon?”
“Huh? Like in general?”
His jaw tightens, and he looks down at his boots. “I was going to make you salmon, roasted broccoli, and sweet potatoes.” He holds up the bag in his hand. “Vitamin A, protein, omega-3 fatty acids, Vitamin D...”
“I didn’t realize you were a nutritionist on the side.”
“Do you know how to cook. I mean, besides making a salad?”
“Of course.” I cross my arms, trying not to be offended by something he couldn’t possibly know. Especially since cooking hasn’t been a priority ever since I’ve been cooking for one.
“I wasn’t sure if you were just living off Dot’s pastries.”
I purse my lips. “Are you judging my sweet tooth?”
“No. Definitely not.” He hands me the bag, and I shift and slide the straps over my arm. “Thank you for the uncooked meal.”
“Will you promise to cook everything and eat it tonight?”
“I was planning on having a PB and J.”
His mouth is still pressed into a tight line. His eyes are searing into mine, like we’re talking about nuclear war, and my hand’s on the big, red, go button. “Please.”
“Everything?” I peek in the bag.
“You’ll have leftovers for tomorrow.”
“If you’re concerned I’m starving myself, I’m not. I’m this size because of my genetics. And because I danced professionally for years.”
“You danced… professionally?” His eyes shift to his cowboy boots, and he squints hard at them.
“Yes.” I leave it at that because it’s more information than I wanted to give him. Sure, he probably thinks I’m a stripper, by the way his eyes shot to his boots, but I’m okay with that.
“Promise you’ll cook it up and eat some.”
“I solemnly swear.”
He nods, his eyes on his boots as he walks toward his pickup.
When I open my eyes, a thin ray of morning sun is casting its light on Monster’s goopy nose, which is less than two inches from mine. His tail thumps hard on the bed when he realizes I’m awake.
“Good morning, bright eyes,” I mumble. “I’m getting up. But come here and snuggle a bit.” I pat the bed, and he jumps up and plops down next to me. I wrap my arms around his big, furry body.
“I’d take you to town with me this morning if I could. But it’s a long walk for you, and my guess is you can’t ride a bike. And you can’t fit in the basket.”
He rests his chin on my stomach and looks at me soulfully.
“I guess I could see if we can afford an old, used, halfway-broken-down golf cart.” I rub his soft ears. “What do you think?”
I slide out of bed, and Monster follows me to the kitchen. I count my cash, stashed away in the kitchen drawer, under the dishcloths. I peel enough money from the stack for pastries, a coffee, a shirt from the secondhand store, and some groceries.
“Look for that secret compartment while I’m gone,” I tell Monster.
“I can stash my cash in it.” I scoop some food out and put his bowl down.
He scoots it toward me with his nose. “I’ll pass.
You eat it. I’ve got to try out my new wheels.
” I lean down and give him a kiss on his goopy nose, then return to the bedroom and throw on my biking shorts and T-shirt.
Before I go, I water the plants in the room then scoot them out of the way, in case Danni and Ned bring the porch furniture today while I’m gone.
“You can’t scare Danni and Ned if they visit,” I tell Monster. “They might stop by. Do you promise not to be a ferocious beast?”
Seventh Heaven is empty when I arrive. I sneak over to the maternity section and peek at what they have until a woman pushes a cart of hanging shirts down the aisle toward me. I quickly shift over to a clothes corral with women’s T-shirts.
“I just got some new sundresses in your size,” she calls out, nodding to another rack. “That cornflower blue sleeveless with the V-neck and short hemline would show off your gorgeous legs. I know you bike everywhere, but maybe someone might take you somewhere in their pickup truck.”
I wrap my arms around my chest, wanting to sink into the floor. “Are you talking about John Fox?”
“Could be.” She joins me, pulling the cornflower blue sundress off the rack and hanging it in front of me.
“It’s also not tight in the midsection,” she says, her voice low, even though no one else is in the store.
“I know your business is your business. But I saw you looking at maternity clothes, and that sundress might get you through another couple months.”
I press my fingers into my eyes.
“I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone now. I know I can be a bit much. Yell if you need anything. My name’s Skye.” She walks away, and I immediately feel bad. She’s Ava’s mother. But yes, she is a bit much. I should thank her, though. Or something.
I pull out a couple T-shirts, guessing at the size and fit.
I’m going to buy something and leave and never come back.
I loop a finger around the hanger for the sundress, to put it aside, then decide that I actually like it.
And it’s my size. And it would be nice to have a sundress, even if I just sat on my front porch and wore it. Plus, all my shorts are getting snug.
“I’ll try it on,” I tell her, joining her at the register, and she beams and walks me to one of the fitting rooms. While I’m pulling off my shirt, she sticks a pair of strappy sandals under the door. “You’ll probably want these too. Size seven?”
I snort out a laugh. “Yes, thank you.”
“I’ll hang some other clothes in your size, from the section you were looking, in case you’d like to try those on as well. I’m having a buy one, get two free in that particular section. And the sandals are half off today.” She clicks away, and I tug on the sundress.
I love it. I mean, I absolutely adore the sundress on me—the fit with the slight flare of the skirt and how it doesn’t squeeze my stomach. It fits perfectly, while still allowing for an expanding belly. The soft blue color is delicious with my now-golden complexion.
I peek out at the other clothes she’s hung, and I pull them into the fitting room. After trying them all on, I decide that I want most of them, but I didn’t bring enough cash. And I do have to be careful. I search for the tags to check the prices, but none of them have tags.
When I take everything to the front, Ava’s at the register.
“Hi,” she says, her grin wide. “I found a big dog to lie on my legs.”
I stare blankly at her for a second before I remember what we were talking about in John’s pickup. “You found a willing, furry participant? That’s wonderful!”
She nods, pulling the clothes toward her and stuffing them all into a bag in one fell swoop. “Mom already rung all these up, including that pair of sandals.” She hands me the bag and tells me the total.
“She rang them all up?”
“Yeah.”
“That can’t be the total for everything in the bag.”
“It is.”
I frown at her, and she shrugs. “She said that was the price.”
“But how could she have known what I was going to buy?”
“She’s a real good guesser.”
I blink down at my toes, willing away the tears prickling at my eyes because of Skye’s sincere compassion and generosity toward a woman she believes has no money to spend.
In part, she’s right—I don’t have a lot of available cash, and I have to spend carefully.
But if I had access to my checking account, I could buy everything in this store.