CHAPTER ELEVEN
Bee opened the door and found Wes standing on the porch with a bouquet of blue flowers in one hand. She had known he was bringing them, but seeing him there made the date feel real in a way his messages had not. The nervous edge in his smile told her he was not nearly as calm as he had sounded.
Wes held the bouquet toward her. “These are for you.”
Bee accepted the flowers and looked down at the blue petals. “No flour?”
His smile widened. “Not this time.”
“They’re beautiful. Thank you,” Bee said.
“I hoped you’d like them,” Wes replied.
Bee carried the bouquet into the kitchen and set it carefully on the table. She considered finding a vase, but Wes was still waiting on the porch. Leaving him out there while she searched through Grandma’s cabinets felt worse than letting the flowers wait a few hours.
Grandma watched from the living room with an expression that told Bee she had noticed every smile Bee had tried to hide. Her attention moved from the bouquet to Bee’s face.
Bee pointed at her. “Don’t.”
Grandma lifted her eyebrows. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You were going to,” Bee replied.
Grandma smiled. “Go have fun.”
Bee shook her head as she stepped outside. Wes waited beside the truck and opened the passenger door for her. The gesture was simple, but her stomach still gave a ridiculous little flip.
Once they pulled away from the house, Bee glanced at him. “Where are we going?”
Wes kept his eyes on the road. “You’ll see.”
Bee narrowed her eyes. “That sounds suspicious.”
Wes laughed. “It’s not suspicious.”
“Are you trying to be mysterious?” Bee said.
“I thought we’d keep it simple,” Wes explained.
Bee settled back against the seat. “I like simple.”
They drove into town, and Wes pulled into the drive-through of a fast-food restaurant. Bee looked at the building before slowly turning toward him. Of course this was what Wes had chosen.
“This is your big surprise?” Bee asked.
Wes glanced at her with a smile. “You like this place.”
“I do,” Bee admitted.
“Then I’m doing pretty well,” Wes said.
Bee smiled as she shook her head. “You’re lucky I like you.”
Wes looked toward the menu again. “I was hoping that was the case.”
The quiet certainty in his answer made her stomach tighten again. Wes did not try to make the moment bigger than it was. Somehow, that made the words land harder.
They ordered their food and headed back toward the road. Bee expected Wes to find somewhere nearby to eat, but he drove to the grocery store instead. He parked at the far end of the lot with the entrance in clear view.
The sky had begun to dim behind the building. White light spilled from the store and stretched across the pavement while carts rattled near the entrance.
Bee looked through the windshield before turning toward him. “Why are we here?”
Wes shut off the engine. “The truck bed is better.”
He climbed out and lowered the tailgate before holding out his hand. Bee took it and climbed into the back with her food. Wes followed and settled beside her against the cab.
From there, they could watch almost everyone entering and leaving the store. The evening air had cooled, and the metal beneath them still held some warmth from the day.
Bee looked across the parking lot and smiled. “Okay, I understand now.”
Wes opened his drink. “Told you.”
“You didn’t tell me anything,” Bee pointed out.
“I knew you’d figure it out,” Wes replied.
They ate while people moved through the parking lot below them. Bee had almost finished half her food when she noticed a man standing beside his truck. He stared down at the grocery bags in his hands as though they had delivered terrible news.
Bee nudged Wes with her elbow. “He forgot something.”
Wes followed her gaze. “Probably.”
“Definitely. Look at his face,” Bee insisted.
Wes studied the man. “I think he’s trying to remember where he parked.”
Bee shook her head. “No. He’s arguing with himself.”
Wes looked at her. “Arguing with himself?”
“He’s deciding whether whatever he forgot is worth going back inside for,” Bee explained.
The man stayed beside his truck for several more seconds. Then he turned and headed back toward the store.
Bee pointed at him. “See?”
Wes laughed. “You were right.”
“I know,” Bee replied.
“You’re way too confident about this,” Wes said.
Bee took another bite. “I have experience.”
Wes lifted an eyebrow. “With watching people?”
“It’s a useful talent,” Bee replied.
“That’s a strange talent,” Wes said.
Bee looked toward the entrance again. “It keeps me entertained.”
A woman emerged from the store pushing a cart filled with grocery bags. One wheel dragged sideways and fought her the entire way across the pavement. She pushed harder, but the cart swerved toward a parked car as though it had plans of its own.
Bee sat straighter and pointed. “See? It’s not just me. Every cart in this store is fighting for its life.”
Wes watched the woman wrestle it back into line. “That one might be winning.”
“The cart or the woman?” Bee asked.
Wes considered the struggle. “The cart.”
Bee laughed as the woman reached her car. She looked through one of the bags, stared toward the store, and turned the cart around.
Bee’s eyes widened. “She forgot something too.”
Wes shook his head. “Maybe she’s returning the cart before it finishes her.”
“No chance,” Bee said. “Something important is missing.”
“Maybe she bought something and forgot she already had it,” Wes suggested.
Bee made a face. “That would be worse.”
They both started laughing, and Wes nearly spilled his drink. Bee covered her mouth while she tried to catch her breath. When she looked at him again, he was laughing just as hard.
Wes steadied his cup. “You’re making this way too much fun.”
Bee lowered her hand. “You’re the one who started it.”
“I absolutely did not,” Wes replied.
Bee gestured toward the parking lot. “You drove me here.”
“That doesn’t count,” Wes said.
“It absolutely counts,” Bee insisted.
While Wes was still smiling, Bee reached over and stole one of his fries. He looked at the empty spot in the container before turning toward her.
“Did you just take my fry?” Wes asked.
Bee kept her face completely straight. “No.”
“I saw you,” Wes said.
“You weren’t looking,” Bee argued.
Wes held her gaze. “I was looking.”
“You were laughing,” Bee said.
“That doesn’t mean I wasn’t looking,” Wes replied.
Bee reached over and took another fry. Wes pulled the container closer to himself and gave her a look.
“Now you’re definitely stealing,” Wes said.
Bee smiled innocently. “Yours taste better.”
“They’re the same fries,” Wes told her.
“They’re better when they’re yours,” Bee replied.
Wes stared at her for a second before pushing the container back toward her. “Fine.”
Bee took another fry. “Thank you.”
“I’m going to regret being nice to you,” Wes said.
“You probably already do,” Bee replied.
Wes shook his head, but his smile stayed. “I don’t.”
The teasing settled into an easy rhythm. Bee watched Wes more often than she watched the parking lot. He laughed at her ridiculous observations and sat through the quiet moments without searching for something clever to say.
They sat in the back of his truck with fast food between them, and Bee stopped wondering whether either of them was doing the date correctly.
A teenager walked out of the store carrying a single bag and stopped beside a parked car. He checked his phone, looked inside the bag, and stared at both as though neither one made sense.
Bee watched him closely. “He doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
Wes followed her gaze. “Maybe he’s waiting for somebody.”
“No,” Bee replied.
“How do you know?” Wes asked.
Bee nodded toward the teenager. “He’s looking at that bag like it personally offended him.”
Wes laughed. “That is not a real thing.”
“Watch,” Bee instructed.
The teenager opened the bag, shook his head, and climbed into the car. Bee turned toward Wes with a triumphant smile.
“See?” Bee said.
Wes laughed again. “You have no idea what just happened.”
“I know exactly what happened,” Bee insisted.
“What?” Wes asked.
“He bought something he didn’t want,” Bee explained.
Wes shook his head. “You’re making up an entire life for this poor kid.”
Bee smiled. “It’s entertaining.”
“You’re observant,” Wes said.
Bee laughed. “Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment,” Wes told her.
“I took it as one,” Bee replied.
Their stories about strangers gradually turned into stories about themselves.
Bee told Wes about the time she and Maya hid candy inside their coat pockets at the store because Grandma had told them they could choose only one snack.
They had not made it past the register before Grandma noticed the shapes under their jackets and sent them back to return everything.
Wes admitted that he once tried to fix his mother’s kitchen drawer without telling her. He had put it back so badly that it fell out the next morning and dumped every spoon in the house across the floor.
Bee laughed and leaned slightly closer. “You were fixing things even then?”
Wes rested his arms on his knees. “Trying to.”
“Did you admit it was you?” Bee asked.
He looked down at his hands. “Eventually.”
Bee tilted her head. “What does eventually mean?”
“After she asked me three times,” Wes admitted.
Bee laughed again. “You let her blame the drawer?”
“For a few minutes,” Wes said.
“That poor drawer,” Bee replied.
Wes bumped his shoulder lightly against hers. “You stole candy.”
“I returned it,” Bee reminded him.
“Because you got caught,” Wes said.
Bee smiled. “That’s not the point.”
She mentioned one of her older videos while defending herself, and Wes remembered the exact story she had told in it. Bee stopped with a fry halfway to her mouth and looked at him.
“You remember that?” Bee asked.
Wes shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Why?” Bee asked.
“I pay attention,” Wes replied.
Bee lowered the fry and smiled at the carton in her lap. “You do.”
Wes remembered small things because he noticed them. Around him, Bee felt seen without feeling watched. The difference mattered more than she knew how to explain.
Their conversation moved to his videos and the strange experience of having strangers build a person from whatever appeared on their screens. Bee understood the feeling better than most people could. She had spent years watching viewers fill every gap in her life with their own assumptions.
Bee folded the top of her empty bag. “Sometimes I think people forget we’re real.”
Wes nodded. “I know.”
“Does it bother you?” Bee asked.
Wes looked toward the store. “Sometimes. I like making the videos, but I don’t want everything to become content.”
Bee waited while he gathered his thoughts. Wes turned his cup slowly between his hands.
“Some things are better when they’re just yours,” Wes said.
Bee looked at him for a moment. “Exactly.”
Wes met her eyes. “Like tonight.”
Bee held his gaze before looking back across the parking lot. “Yeah. Like tonight.”
They left their phones where they were and stayed in the truck bed. Cars moved through the lot while the last color faded from the sky. Every so often, Bee pointed out another shopper, and Wes listened to whatever story she invented.
By the time they gathered their empty containers, the grocery-store lights had taken over the parking lot. Wes checked the time on his phone and let out a quiet sigh.
“I should probably get you home,” Wes said.
Bee nodded even though she did not want the evening to end. “Probably.”
Neither of them moved right away. Bee looked across the lot before turning back to him.
“I had fun,” Bee said.
Wes smiled. “Me too.”
“I wasn’t sure what this was going to be like,” Bee admitted.
“Neither was I,” Wes replied.
Bee glanced at the fast-food bags between them. “I didn’t expect dinner in a grocery-store parking lot.”
Wes looked almost worried. “Was that bad?”
Bee smiled. “No. I liked it.”
His shoulders relaxed. “Me too.”
They climbed down and returned to the cab. The drive home was quieter, but the silence no longer carried any nerves. Bee watched the road and occasionally glanced toward Wes.
Somewhere between the stolen fries and the stories they had invented about strangers, she had stopped wondering whether the date was going well. She had simply enjoyed being with him.
When Wes pulled into the driveway, Bee turned toward him. “Thank you for tonight.”
“You’re welcome,” Wes replied.
She opened the door but paused before climbing out. “I really did have fun.”
Wes smiled. “So did I.”
Bee stepped out and walked toward the house. Wes waited until she reached the porch before he pulled away.
The house was quiet when Bee went inside. She walked into the kitchen and looked toward the table, expecting to find the flowers where she had left them.
Instead, the bouquet stood in a clear glass vase filled with water. Grandma had arranged it in the middle of the table, and the blue petals looked brighter beneath the kitchen light.
Bee looked toward the living room. Grandma sat with a cup of tea and wore an expression of complete innocence.
“You put them in a vase,” Bee said.
Grandma took another sip. “They needed water.”
Bee walked over to the table. “Thank you.”
Grandma nodded. “You’re welcome.”
Bee touched one of the petals and remembered Wes standing on the porch with the bouquet in his hand. She thought about sitting beside him in the back of his truck, stealing his fries, and laughing until her stomach hurt.
The date had not been fancy. That was exactly what she had liked about it.
Grandma watched her for another moment. “So?”
Bee turned toward her. “So what?”
“How was the date?” Grandma asked.
Bee looked back at the flowers as her smile returned. “It was really good.”
Grandma nodded as though that settled everything. “Good.”
Bee poured herself a glass of water and started toward the hallway. She paused long enough to glance back at the blue flowers in the middle of the table.
Wes had brought them because he remembered. Grandma had put them in water because she cared. Bee headed toward her room and left the flowers exactly where they belonged.