1.
Z ANE
“Why haven’t we eaten here before?” I asked.
“Because they close at a normal hour and you’re rarely able to eat before nine in the evening.”
“True. I’ve been cutting back on my hours lately, though. Have you noticed?”
“So you could babysit me.”
“When’s the asshole going to be here?”
“You’re sitting right in front of me, Zane.”
I rolled my eyes and asked, “Is Garvey attending a meeting or holding one?”
“He’s holding one. There have been some wild things happening at The Flower Patch in the last few weeks, so he thought it might do everyone some good to have an impromptu meeting tonight.”
“That’s nice of him. What’s been going on?”
“Just some drama with a few of the residents. But we’ve almost got the store ready for a final inspection, the irrigation system is getting installed in the greenhouse next week, and we are on track to open on schedule, if not a little ahead of time.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked.
“I have an idea for some planter boxes, and I was going to ask for your input.”
“Hit me with it.”
“I drew out some plans the other day and took a picture of them. Let me see if I can find it.” Zoey looked thoughtful for a second before she said, “Actually, I think the notebook I was using is in my truck. Let me go get it.”
“Tell me where it is, and I’ll go.”
“We’ve been sitting here for a while, so I probably need to get up and walk for a bit. I’ll go.” When I frowned, she said, “I know it goes against your chivalrous nature, but it won’t kill you to let the weak little princess do something for herself just this once, okay?”
“Shut up.”
Zoey laughed as she walked away, and I took a few minutes to look around the restaurant. It seemed like a nice family establishment, which explained why they closed earlier than most places I frequented. The appetizer was delicious, the service was excellent, and the environment was inviting.
“Hey!” I heard a boy whisper from somewhere behind me.
“Hey, mister!” another voice said a little louder.
“Boys, turn around and eat. You’re not supposed to talk to strangers, and besides, it’s impolite to bother people when they’re eating.”
“But I want to see his pictures!”
“Me too,” the second boy chimed in.
“Eat.”
“I don’t like it,” a little girl whined.
“Fine. Don’t eat,” the woman responded.
“I want something else.”
“You ordered it, so that’s what you're getting. I tried to tell you that it wasn’t something you’d like, but you wouldn’t listen, so now you’re stuck with it.”
“But I don’t like it.”
The woman ignored the petulant little girl and said, “Boys, sit down and finish your dinner. It’s getting late, and we have to pick Dayton up in less than an hour.”
“He’s gonna be in a bad mood,” a boy complained.
“He’s always in a bad mood,” the other boy chimed in.
“There’s something green in this,” the first boy whined. “It’s in your food too!”
“Ew! I don’t like green stuff.”
“I swear to God, I’m never taking any of you out for dinner again until you’re old enough to walk home when you piss me off.” I snorted before, a little louder, the woman said, “I’m not a monster! I wouldn’t actually make them walk home.”
“You made Dayton walk home!” the girl argued.
“Because he got kicked off the school bus.”
“I can’t get all the green stuff out. This is so gross!”
“Beau, at some point, you’re going to have to realize that . . .”
I remembered when my mom’s voice would take on that tone and knew the woman was about ten seconds from losing her shit, so I said, “Hey, guys! Peek over the wall, and I’ll show you my favorite tattoo.”
The boys squealed, and I turned so I could see them over the wooden partition that separated the booths. The boys looked to be the same age, but that was the only similarity. That didn’t shock me, though. There were lots of fraternal twins that looked nothing alike.
“Which one is your favorite?” I asked.
“I like that one!” the dark-haired boy said as he pointed to a colorful portrait of a demon skull with horns bursting through a jumble of bright flowers.
The blond chose the stand of aspen trees that wrapped around my forearm, all of them bright with fall colors.
“Well, if you’re gonna grow up and be tattoo guys, there are a few things you’re gonna have to consider.
” I could tell that I had their attention because they were staring at me with wide eyes, going between my tattoos and my face as I talked.
“Have you ever seen somebody who has tattoos that are all black and gray?” The boys nodded eagerly, and I whispered, “It’s because they don’t eat vegetables.
” They frowned in confusion, and I pointed to the designs on my arm and said, “This green color comes from broccoli - see how it’s the same color?
” They both nodded, completely engaged.
“And this one over here is the color of a carrot. This is from peas. This over here is from okra and . . . um . . . Oh! This part comes from eggplant. Have you ever had eggplant?” They shook their heads in unison, and I nodded.
“I thought I didn’t like it, but I kept trying it and found that I really did.
Now that I eat it all the time, my tattoos are bright, don’t you think?
” They nodded, and I said, “Some of these colors are from fruit too. This is apple, and I think this is from pineapple.”
“I bet that’s from strawberries, huh?” the dark-haired boy asked.
“And that’s from blueberries.”
“Right,” I agreed. “But if I hadn’t eaten my fruits and vegetables when I was growing up, I wouldn’t have tattoos this color, and if I don’t eat ‘em now, my tattoos will fade.”
“Is that true, Mama?” the blond asked as he whipped his head around.
“You’ve seen my tattoos, and you know what I eat,” she answered without actually adding to my lie. “What do you think?”
“I’m gonna eat my dinner!” the dark-haired boy said quickly before he dropped out of sight.
The blond one eyed me speculatively for a few seconds, so I pointed to a swirl of dark green and whispered, “Green beans.”
The boy disappeared, and I put my hand over my mouth to hold in my laughter as I twisted back around in the booth to face my sister who had been listening in. She didn’t say a word, just extended her fist to me and whispered, “You’re awesome, Zane Duke.”
“I learned it from my daddy.”
◆◆◆
COURTNEY
No matter how hard I tried to teach my children not to bother strangers, the lessons just never stuck. At just over four years old, Beau and Leo had boundless energy and curiosity and personalities that were so big that they couldn’t help but make everyone around them smile.
Even big burly bikers who were apparently covered in tattoos.
I somehow missed seeing the man come in and sit down and guessed it was probably when Beau spilled a full glass of water on the table and I was doing my best not to get soaked.
I’d heard him talking with the woman sitting in his booth and noticed then how sexy his voice was, and as I let my mind wander, I daydreamed of what he might look like.
Tall with long, dark hair and a sexy beard, covered in tattoos with biceps big enough to stretch the sleeves of his white T-shirt that hugged his chest perfectly and led down to faded jeans that . . .
Shit. It had been way too long since I’d had time to even consider striking up a conversation with a man, let alone actually get naked with one. The kids were wild and crazy, one wilder than all of the others put together, and work kept me on my toes.
I was lucky enough to land a cush job where I could work from home, but it required all of my concentration when I was doing it, which had to be late at night or very early in the morning when the kids were in bed. Sleep was a distant memory. Almost as distant as an active sex life.
“Mama, can we stop at the store and get some grapes?” Beau asked.
“I want blueberries and green beans!” Leo screwed up his face before he said, “But I’m not gonna eat them at the same time.”
I heard the man behind them laugh and knew without a doubt he was listening in.
I didn’t know a thing about the man other than that he was good with children, and that was sexy as hell to me.
He could be as short as he was round, but after hearing him talk to my boys like the sweet little knowledge-hungry humans they were, I was seriously thinking about kissing him right on the mouth.
Especially if the boys followed through and started eating real food.
It was getting really old trying to camouflage vegetables in everything I cooked.
God forbid either one of them spot a vegetable!
If they did, the food they’d loved ten seconds ago would magically transform into disgusting slop.
Alana leaned closer to me and whispered in my ear, “Is that like the time you told me that if I didn’t start eating different food, my skin was going to turn orange?”
I was honest when I answered her. “No, sweetie, I was serious. There’s more to life than carrots and sweet potatoes. Much more.”
I glanced at my watch and gasped when I saw the time.
We had twenty minutes to get across town to pick up Dayton from his counseling appointment, and I didn’t want to be late.
His doctor was a godsend. I would do everything in my power to keep her on Dayton’s team, which meant that I needed to pay the bill and herd the wild ones into the car within the next five minutes in order to get there on time.
“Come on, guys,” I said as I put my purse up on my shoulder. “We’ve gotta go.”
Beau shoved another bite of food in his mouth, and I was surprised to see that the boys’ plates were almost bare.
As I was sliding out of the booth, Beau hopped out of his side, and Leo followed quickly after. They took a few steps and stopped at the end of the tattooed man’s table.
“Did you eat your dinner?” the man asked. When the boys said that they had, a large hand with tattoos down to the knuckles appeared. As the boys bumped their fists into his, he said, “That’s great, boys! Keep up the good work.”
Shyly, Alana said, “Hello.”
The woman sitting with the tattooed man said, “You must be the genius sister.” When Alana nodded, she explained, “I’m his sister. We’re twins just like your brothers.”
“Oh, they’re not twins! Beau is our nephew, but since our sister is our mom now, we call him our brother.”
I stopped in my tracks and let my head fall forward, wishing like hell that a sinkhole would appear and suck me down to a faraway land where Alana would stop announcing our fucked-up family dynamic to the masses.
I finally willed my feet to work again and stepped over behind the kids so I could at least smile at the friendly people in the booth.
I gasped when I saw the man sitting there and flashed back to that day a few months ago when he helped me out after Dayton stole my SUV and crashed it into a light pole.
The man’s slow smile told me that he remembered me too, and I felt myself blushing again when he said, “Well, hello, sister-mama. It’s nice to see you again under better circumstances.”
“My hero,” I replied with a sheepish smile. I settled one hand on Beau’s head and the other on Leo’s before I said, “This is the second time you’ve come to my rescue with good advice.”
“How did the other advice work out?”
“We’re going to pick him up from an appointment with the counselor you recommended right now.”
“That’s good. If anyone can help him, it’s Emerald Hamilton.”
“She’s wonderful.” The man and woman chuckled before they agreed. I cleared my throat and said, “We’ve got to go now, but it was nice to see you again. And thanks for the advice on their vegetable intake.”
“A wise man told me that when I was a kid, and I believed him because I like colorful tattoos.”
“I think it’s pretty cool that you're nice enough to pass it on to curious little boys who can’t seem to understand that the world is not their personal audience and not everybody wants to chat.”
“If somebody doesn’t want to talk to a kid, then they’re not a person I’d want to be around.”
“I completely agree.”