Chapter 19
A BEAVER RUNS THROUGH IT
Cricket
My new chicken, The Cluckinator, follows me when I leave Heath’s house, then hangs out near me while I garden and pretend I didn’t wake up in bed with Heath this morning.
I’ve been in love before.
Several times.
But I’m not sure I’ve ever convinced myself I was in love with a guy I hadn’t had sex with.
That part’s new.
Clearly I’m mistaken.
Just like I’m mistaken that gardening is a good idea today.
I’m not quite the superwoman with alcohol that I told Mabel and Pip and Heath that I was.
But I’ve made some progress in the garden, so I reward myself by going in search of Olivia and Samantha.
Usually they’re done with their baking by this time of the day, but I heard Lavender slowed them down this morning.
I duck into the main house to grab a treat for The Cluckinator, then she follows me across the yard and beside the grape fields to the event center. Warm, yeasty deliciousness lingers in the air, along with the sounds of my friends singing show tunes inside.
I look down at The Cluckinator. “You’re staying in the yard, okay?”
She clucks at me.
I set out a slice of watermelon for her. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”
She doesn’t answer me this time because she’s eating.
I slip into the large stone building, walking through the empty ballroom and into the kitchen.
Samantha’s pulling fresh pastries out of the oven, and she spots me when she turns to slide them in front of Olivia. “Good morning, Cricket. How’re you feeling, love?”
“Good,” I reply as Olivia points me to a stool across from the stainless steel work table, then grabs butter to brush over the croissants.
“Last batch,” Samantha tells me as she turns the music down. “You have impeccable timing.”
“I can wash dishes.”
“Now that, we’ll take you up on,” Olivia says. “Croissant? We have extras for this order, and they won’t be good anymore by farmer’s market day.”
“I did a lifestyle segment once on a baker who made more money on gourmet bread pudding than she did selling it fresh. Not that I’m saying you should do that. It’s just an option I heard about once.”
They both smile at me. “So does that mean you do or don’t want one?”
I’m starting to drool, so the answer is obvious. “Yes, please.”
Olivia grabs one off the rack, drops it into a cloth napkin, and hands it to me.
“Heard you got a chicken,” Samantha says.
“Yes! I named her The Cluckinator. She’s so cute.
She found me yesterday. Once Mabel confirms she doesn’t belong to anyone, she’s mine.
Well, ours. If she’s not a grass-is-greener kind of chicken who decides to go on to the next person.
I really don’t know where she came from.
Or if she’ll want to stay. But if she stays, I’ll take care of her. She’s been following me all morning.”
“Fresh eggs would be nice,” Olivia murmurs.
“So you’re sticking around for a while longer?” Samantha asks.
My eyes water, but they don’t run this time. “I love it here,” I whisper. “It’s so nice to be somewhere that I can be the messiest version of me. Being here has been the best gift of my life.”
They both smile at me.
“Even after yesterday?” Olivia asks.
“Yesterday was—” I gulp. “It was…something.”
They share a look that’s full of secret grins and sparkling eyes.
“Can I ask you a question that I swear every woman must ask when they come here?”
They share another look, and I realize they probably know what I’m about to ask.
They witnessed parts of what Heath and I did yesterday, and I have no doubts that Pip’s telling everyone she found us in bed together today.
“Ask away,” Samantha says.
I leap to my feet as I realize she’s heading toward the sink. “Seriously, let me do these.”
“Eat that croissant while it’s warm,” she replies.
“Only if you sit too,” I reply.
She hesitates only a moment before taking a seat on another stool on the other side of the metal prep table. “So you want to know if everyone falls for Heath.”
If my cheeks aren’t the color of a neon beefsteak tomato, I’d be shocked. “Am I that obvious?”
“You are, but don’t be embarrassed. He’s a good-looking man.”
Olivia snorts softly.
“Don’t pretend you don’t think so too,” Samantha says to her.
“It’s irrelevant if he’s good-looking or not,” Olivia replies. “He doesn’t date.”
“Ever?” I ask.
“He never has that we’re aware of,” Samantha says. “But there’s always a first.”
“Unlikely,” Olivia murmurs.
“Stranger things have happened.”
“Do you know why he doesn’t date?” I ask.
They share one more glance.
“Life’s put him through the wringer these past few years,” Olivia says.
“And he takes responsibility for everyone and everything around him,” Samantha adds.
“That’s why it was so good to see him having fun yesterday. Don’t think he lets off steam often enough.”
I shift my gaze between the two women. “Why do I suddenly feel like I’m a bad influence?”
Olivia snorts. “Did you force the alcohol down his throat?”
“No, but it was my idea.”
“And he’s a grown man who could’ve said no,” she replies. “Trust me. He was overdue.”
“He told me once he was a complete hellraiser in high school,” Samantha says.
“Life’s beat it out of him lately though,” Olivia says.
“It has. He definitely needed yesterday. Probably needed it for years.”
I wince. “He didn’t sound like it this morning,” I murmur.
They both grin at me. “So Pip’s story is true?”
And my face is getting hot again. “We were both dressed. Nothing happened. The end of the night is hazy, but I think he just didn’t want to climb the stairs. I remember some whining and groaning about his legs being heavy.”
Olivia barks out a laugh. “What I would’ve paid to see that.”
“Oh, don’t make fun.” I should stop talking about yesterday.
The whole household knows we got drunk together, but they don’t need to know about how Heath burst into the building where I was hiding from him and howled like a wounded animal, or about everything he told me after we’d had a bottle or three. “Just let him have this.”
“We would never make fun,” Olivia says. “He’s a good one.”
“He is. Always so kind,” Samantha continues.
“Patient,” Olivia adds.
Samantha nods along. “Handy.”
“A good dad.”
“Smart about the world and smarter about the things in it than some people give him credit for.”
Olivia hums softly. “The way he took care of Ava when she was sick—”
I shrink a little.
I don’t mean to, but it’s impossible not to.
I can’t hold a candle to Ava.
The mother of his daughter? An inspiration to millions of women? The woman he loved? Probably still loves?
Samantha clucks her tongue at me. “Oh, no. Don’t do that.”
Olivia stares straight at me in a way that’s hard to duck.
“Honey, I don’t know who you had in your past who convinced you that you need to beg for table scraps, but you’re also a kind, compassionate, bright soul who deserves every good thing.
And I don’t mean men. I mean all different kinds of good things in life. ”
I bite into the croissant to distract myself from tearing up again as I realize the full message in Olivia’s words.
Your parents might have treated you like life was a competition with your sisters, but it’s not. You don’t have to keep comparing yourself to everyone. You get to just be you.
My tongue registers what I’m tasting as I’m having this epiphany, and I moan in delight.
Flaky, buttery croissants fresh out of the oven—who could ever actually leave here?
The women trade smiles.
“It struck me yesterday as I was watching you that Heath doesn’t meet most of our guests immediately upon their arrival,” Samantha says. “He rarely sees them at their most vulnerable. I think the timing and how you two met threw him off-kilter.”
Olivia nods. “Honestly, it’s good to see. It’s like he’s waking up.”
“Did we tell you that you’re the first viral friend to ever make use of that apartment in his basement?”
“And that none of our previous guests have ever introduced themselves to him by punching him,” Olivia says with a sly grin.
Samantha doesn’t smile back like you’d expect. “I thought his mother-in-law was going to once.”
“She’s something.”
“The father-in-law’s worse.”
“If I ever catch him trying to come onto this property again the way he did when they decided they wanted Lav…”
I swallow, then wish I hadn’t, because the croissant gets stuck in my throat.
Not in a way that’ll choke me, but in a way that almost makes me wish I was.
I have to move.
Heath said that yesterday.
That he and Lavender have to move.
There’s a lot about yesterday that’s fuzzy and unclear, but I remember him telling me he didn’t think he was a good dad and that he had to leave.
So it doesn’t matter that I have a crush on him.
He’s not staying.
“But at least that’s over,” Samantha says.
“Damn well better be,” Olivia mutters.
Samantha looks back at me. “Do you know, if you told me a month ago that the two of you would be streaking through the grapevines together, I would’ve put a hundred against it, and I’m not the betting type.”
“With or without a chicken,” Olivia adds.
“I was fully dressed the whole time, and he was wearing boxers,” I stammer.
Did his boxers have Hawaiian flowers on them, or is that the wine feeding me funny memories? I don’t remember why he stripped down to his boxers.
But he had to have at some point to wake up in those clown pants.
They’re both smiling again.
“It really was good to see him having fun,” Samantha says.
“Agreed,” Olivia says. “He doesn’t take enough time off of trying to be everything for everyone.”
“Neither does Mabel,” I point out, since I need to talk about someone other than Heath.
“Oh, she gets her kicks and lets off stress regularly,” Olivia tells me. “She’s just good at being subtle about it.”
Samantha nods. “Plus, I think she likes how much it irritates the family that Pip won’t sell this place and is letting it rot.”
“Her family cares what Pip does?” I ask.