Chapter 14 Honey
FOURTEEN
Honey
Mabel
I was at my kitchen island making a turkey sandwich.
It was afternoon the next day.
I’d started it with homemade Nutella crepes with toasted almonds.
Then Tonks and I moved out to do our perimeter walk, and annoyingly, but necessarily, whenever we were going along the south wood line, I got tense and more alert, which meant Tonks did too.
But now it had been over a week since my neighbors left that note and…nothing.
Maybe it was a blip.
After our walk, Tonks and I got stuck in at the workshop.
That week, full out of summer and careening headlong into fall, therefore likely the waning days of yard sales (and, thankfully, I’d hustled my ass off all spring and summer so we had plenty of vintage stock, and I’d picked up every cute (or cool, I thought) cast-off Christmas decoration, so we were good to go for that season), I’d not only scored an awesome shelving unit I was refinishing, but also three old, neglected Coach bags I knew I could bring back to life.
Tonks had learned workshop time meant she didn’t get close to me unless I called her (see? she was so smart—totally special), so, since I’d stripped the shelves that week, I stained them that morning.
I then turned my attention to the Coach bags, removed the hardware, went to town on them with Brasso, before I thoroughly cleaned the bags with leather cleaner.
I stuffed them with tissue paper to bring back their shape, and they’d get a massive moisture massage with leather conditioner once the mild dampness of the cleaning had dried.
At this point, I realized I was hungry, so Tonks and I went back into the house.
And now I had a dog at my feet, watching with extreme focus as I made my sandwich, and a cat sitting on the stool opposite the counter from me, just her ears and yellow eyes appearing over the surface, and she was doing the same.
As for me, I’d tried to keep busy, but my mind was consumed with what happened with Hutch yesterday.
No, not true.
It was consumed with what had happened with Hutch since the beginning.
Yesterday, he was not Mr. Grouch.
Yesterday, he was amazing.
Friendly, great with kids, awesome with a basketball.
“Was it a peace offering?” I asked Moxie.
I was sure she cared about the state of play between me and Hutch, but she was more interested in my turkey sandwich.
I broke off a piece of turkey and put it on the counter in front of her kitty face.
She got up on her paws on the counter, sniffed the meat, sniffed it again, gave it a cautious lick, then took hold of it in her teeth, jumped off the stool and dashed somewhere she could eat in privacy.
I pulled a whole slice off the pile and tossed it to Tonks.
Whereas Moxie would make the treat last, Tonks caught it mid-air and swallowed it whole.
“I wanna be a Moxie with food,” I told Tonks. “But I’m a Tonks.”
Tonks woo-wooed her approval.
I finished making my sandwich, put the stuff away, and went with my plate and my phone to the couch.
Tonks came with me, giving me you know I’m starving eyes.
“You got yours, this is for me,” I told her. Then ordered, “Down.”
She didn’t hesitate. She lay down but put her head on the couch seat in front of me so she could continue to assert that she was starving.
“So, if that was a peace offering from Hutch, I should accept, right?” I asked my dog.
At the sound of the word “Hutch,” hear ears cocked, and when I was done talking, she woo-wooed softly.
“That’s what I’m thinking,” I said. “And I know what that was, what started us. That was then. This is now. If he wanted something more, he’s had ample opportunity to communicate that to me.
And I’m far from looking for any romantic entanglements.
We know where we stand. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, right? ”
That got a stronger woo-woo.
“Right,” I agreed.
I took a bite of sandwich, and while chewing, I grabbed my phone.
I then texted Hutch, Right, Larry Bird. What gives?
I put my phone down and went after my sandwich, not expecting an immediate response.
But I got one…ish. It didn’t come immediately, but a few minutes later a text from Mr. Grouch (how I’d programmed him in, but if recent circumstances held strong, I might want to change that, and yeah, I was considering Larry Bird) showed on my screen.
I snatched it up, half expecting him to tell me he didn’t appreciate getting texts from clients on a Sunday (not that I was paying him, but still).
He didn’t tell me that.
He told me, Basketball scholarship. Purdue. Point guard. And I didn’t let myself get rusty.
I knew I had turkey and Swiss teeth as I grinned at my phone.
I swallowed that, took another bite, and while chewing, texted back, Color a girl impressed. Or three of them, Emma, Abigail and me. Also the entire town of Misted Pines.
I got back, A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. A pink teddy bear was on the line.
Oh yeah.
Yesterday was a peace offering.
This was a whole new man.
I didn’t know what prompted his change, but I wasn’t going to let the opportunity slide.
In all seriousness, that was really cool of you.
It wasn’t a big deal, he replied.
It was to Emma, I returned.
And me, I did not type out.
I watched the three dots swirl, then, Kids need golden moments when they’re growing up.
I stared at my phone for a long time, knowing that was the absolute truth.
Then I typed, Yeah, they do. She’s young, but I doubt she’ll forget that.
Before he could text again, I added, Also thanks for the apple.
More watching the three dots then, Couldn’t let it go to waste.
So, Navy SEAL, dog trainer extraordinaire and car thief? Even more impressed, I sent.
Your truck is kickass, but it’s also old and easy to break into, he replied.
Then before I could text again, I received, Good you don’t leave anything valuable in it.
It wasn’t lost on me anyone with a coat hanger could get into my truck, but the nice part of what he said was that he noticed I wasn’t an idiot.
Come Christmas I’m going to start a business delivering Christmas trees, I joked.
He dropped a “Ha Ha” on that then sent, Playing at The Link tonight. You want to come with me?
Oh man.
I stared at my phone longer and harder that time, but I didn’t want him to think I was hesitating, or that I didn’t want to go, because I did.
I so did.
So I sent, Sure. Meet there or go together?
And got, Together. Pick you up at 9:00.
Even if my heart thumped hard in my chest at his reply, I knew this wasn’t a date.
Or did I know this wasn’t a date?
I’ll be ready, I said.
He dropped a thumbs up on that.
For a second, I didn’t move.
After that second, I ate the rest of my sandwich thoughtfully.
But I didn’t need those thoughts.
I knew what I needed.
A girlfriend to talk this out with.
Although I texted regularly with Mona and Kacey, they knew nothing about the last week and a half of my life, outside getting Moxie and Tonks pictures.
Hutch was a one-night good time, but he wasn’t a thing.
And I didn’t want them worried about The Lion and The Lamb that, as time went by, seemed like they weren’t going to be an ongoing problem.
But I’d had another revelation yesterday.
I might have been mentally holding Abigail at arm’s length, but she had not been doing the same with me.
I’d wanted to keep us as very friendly colleagues to protect my battered heart should I leave.
But she considered me her friend.
I took my plate to the sink, washed up, got Tonks’s lead, my phone, and took my dog out for her midday perimeter walk.
After that was done, I sat on the steps to the porch with her tennis ball, pulled out my phone, and played toss with my dog while I called Abigail.
“Oh my Gaaaaaaaaawwwwwd! I thought you’d never call!” she said as greeting.
I smiled and Tonks dropped the ball in front of me.
I threw it and asked, “Do you have time to chat?”
“Sister, as I predicted, the kids didn’t even ask about the apples after dinner.
They dropped dead asleep after pjs and teeth.
So I rawked Brett’s world last night with my basketball stud, cheerleader fantasy.
He didn’t even care it was Hutch who inspired it.
I wore that man owt. He’s now napping, flat out in his lounger in front of a game.
And I can assure you, he is not dreaming of football. ”
Tonks dropped again, and I threw the ball while I laughed.
“And the kids are at my parents’. So,” she said in a rubbing-hands-together-excitedly tone, “spill all about your hottie-with-a-million-dollar-body dog trainer.”
“Did you just quote Nickelback at me?” I asked.
“Don’t tell Brett. He’s a music purist. He hates them. But a girls’ gotta rock.”
Another laugh from me, then I hesitated.
But in the end, I spilled all.
Tonks’s entire tongue was lolling out, and she was breathing so heavily, her breath was wafting up the steps at me, so I was pretty sure we’d accomplished our quota on doggie exercise for the day or maybe even the whole week.
And since I was getting chilled, and the clouds were rolling in, I got up and me and my dog went inside.
I hadn’t noticed Abigail hadn’t said anything until after I took off Tonks’s leash, she headed direct to her water bowl, I locked my front door, and she said, “Okay, let’s start on good things. Three times? In one night?”
At the memory, feeling warm, weirdly only in my chest and not parts south, I threw myself on the couch and confirmed, “Yeah.”
“Good Lord, I’m never telling Brett that. He can get competitive. I’d enjoy it. But it might give him a coronary.”
I smiled.
“Now…um…your neighbors?” she asked cautiously.
“I know. It was weird. Creepy as all hell. But between Hutch, Mrs. Matthews and a quiet, sweet guy named David, not to mention Tonks, I feel pretty safe.” Well, kinda safe, but I wasn’t going to tell her that.
“Those and the fact I’d been here for months, nothing happened, and nothing’s happened since that note.
And it isn’t like I haven’t been keeping company. Hutch is here a lot.”