Bear?
Greer
Instead of waiting to ask him, this morning I bring a breakfast burrito out with me to get the paper. Why even pretend I didn’t make it for the kid?
There’s a brisk chill in the air, but the snow skipped over us, which is disappointing to say the least. Though I do love that the air smells fresher here in Silent Valley. The lack of exhaust fumes and excrement is a welcome change. “Morning, Creed.”
“Morning, Greer.” He walks over with an all too cheerful smile on his face, this early in the morning.
“You look happy today. Something fun happening at school?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. I’m just thinking about falling in love.”
Thinking about—Laughter bubbles up inside of me. “Love doesn’t work that way. It’s not a logical emotion. You can pick who your friends are. You can pick who you associate with. But the heart wants what the heart wants.”
“They say that. But I think I will just see the right woman and decide to fall in love with her.”
That poor, sweet, innocent boy. “And have you met this girl yet?”
“Nope.” He shrugs without a care in the world. “How about you? Are you in love?”
Me? In love? “I’m about as far from love as one person can get.” What is the opposite of in love? In hate? That would definitely fit my ex-husband. “No. I’ve sworn off men.”
Creed’s grin could light up a dark night. “Don’t women usually say that until they fall in love again?”
“Has anyone told you that you’re a menace?”
“That’s been known to happen.” He doesn’t seem bothered by that fact in the least.
Cheeky. “This is the last of the breakfast burritos. Do you like quiche?”
“Never had it. But there isn’t much I don’t like.”
“Well then, tomorrow, be prepared to try quiche for the first time. You have a nice day at school.”
“Will do. What are you up to today?”
Other than submitting Cordelia to the third degree? “I think I’m going to look for a job.”
“Really? You need a job?”
Need isn’t the word. “Not really. But I need to feel useful.”
“Ahh.”
What does that mean?
“Thanks again for the burrito.” Creed waves and walks away.
***
“Spill the beans. How did you start dating and not tell anyone?” I glare at Cordelia as she scoops white chocolate mousse into a piping bag.
“I’m not dating him. Bear is just friendly and in love with my cooking. Like in love. That man is obsessed with sweets. He lives up to his moniker.”
No way. “He didn’t seem like that was the case when I met him yesterday at lunch with Bram.”
Cordelia blushes. “Bear is a nice man, and we’ve hung out a few times, but we aren’t dating. Could you see me introducing him to my parents? They would lose their minds.”
“So?”
“Excuse me?” She sets down the piping bag.
“So what? Think of all the things that you’ve done, regardless of the fact that your parents lost their minds. Remember when we went away for spring break, and your parents called the FBI to come looking for you?” That was a hysterical knock on the door.
“I couldn’t just stop living because—You’re right. But I’m not sure Bear is the one. He’s a nice man, but he seems to be more interested in my food.”
What man wouldn’t be interested in her food? “What are you feeling? Are you attracted to him?”
She sinks down onto a stool. Something she hasn’t done the entire time I’ve been here. “Bear is an attractive man. Not in the sexy model sort of way. But I don’t know. Love may not be for me.”
Love definitely isn’t for me. “Just don’t not give love a chance because of your family.”
***
“You know, we’re starting to make this a habit.” I sink down into the seat across from Bram.
“And isn’t it a lovely one?”
It is. I set my newspaper down on the table.
“Is that today’s Urbium Times paper?”
“Yes?” Do people here not get the paper?
“How? How do you have today’s paper? I get the prior week’s papers shipped out to me every Monday morning. How are you getting it daily?”
“It’s at the end of my driveway every morning.”
“The end—” He shakes his head. “Do any of your neighbors get it as well?”
Like I know what newspaper people read. The grumpy neighbor next door certainly doesn’t. “I don’t know. Probably not.”
“That’s because it’s not available here. And let me tell you. I’ve tried to get it delivered.” Bram leans back in his chair, staring at me like I’ve grown another head. “Just how rich are you?”
One never talks about money. It’s impolite.
“That rich, huh?”
I want to avert my gaze and shrink away, but instead I sit up straighter and meet Bram’s eyes.
“That must have really messed with the boy you married. Next time, you should pick a man.”
What? “He was several years older than me.”
“Age doesn’t make you a man. Maturity does. And it sounds like you married a little boy.”
If only he knew the half of it. “I could ask my lawyer to arrange for you to receive it, too.”
“Well done changing the topic of conversation.” Bram doesn’t like to be managed, does he?
Jane walks over. “Hey, guys.” She gives us a friendly smile. “Are you ready to order? I’d recommend the caramel apple cake today. It’s beyond amazing. We’ve already almost sold out.”
“A latte and a slice sounds perfect.”
Cordelia must be really irritated about a man she doesn’t even know. To be fair, he’s really irritating when you know him, as well. “I’ll take a decaf green tea with honey and lemon. Do you have a cranberry white chocolate mini cake?”
“How do you know about that? We’re currently unloading them.”
I watched Cordelia make them all morning, and have been wanting one ever since, but Jane doesn’t need to know that.
“Let me see if I can nab you one while they’re putting them in the fridge.”
“So how good is this in you have with The Cake Lady?” Bram asks when Jane walks away. “Could you put in a special request, and she’d make it?”
That isn’t a big ask. “Yes.”
“You say that without hesitating.”
Cordelia would give me a kidney if I asked. A cake is nothing. “It’s just a cake.”
“Hers are never just a cake.”
That’s true. “Why?”
“One of my friends just recently got married, and we’re going to throw them a reception when they get back. I was wondering if you could arrange for Cordelia to make the cake. I know it’s a big ask but…”
“I’m sorry, I can’t ask Cordelia to do that.”
“Oh. That’s okay. No worries.” Bram looks like a schoolboy being denied a treat.
“As I was saying, I can’t ask Cordelia to do that, because all I would need to do is tell her that it’s for Dylan.”
Bram’s head pops up. “Really?”
“Oh yeah.” And now I need to tell Cordelia about the plans.