Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Zane
By the time church lets out Sunday afternoon, I’ve been talked into going to the local ice cream shop with Annabelle and Maxinne.
The place hums with families escaping the summer heat, laughter bouncing off the checkerboard floor while the scent of fresh waffle cones fills the air.
We squeeze into a booth near the window.
“My mommy said her favorite flavor is mint chocolate chip,” Annabelle says nonchalantly before taking a lick of her strawberry ice cream cone.
I scrunch my face at her. “Mint with chocolate? Gross.”
“That’s what I said,” she giggles.
“I like mint chocolate chip.” Maxinne’s eyes twinkle with humor. She leans toward Annabelle, lowering her voice like she’s sharing a secret, “But strawberry, by far, is the best flavor.”
The two of them tap their cones together in a cheer before taking another lick. There’s a faint smear of pink at the corner of Maxinne’s mouth, and my gaze locks in. Her tongue darts out right as a drop of melted ice cream slides free and lands against her collarbone.
Don’t look, Zane. Don’t you dare.
It takes concentrated effort to drag my eyes away. I swallow, hard enough that I’m sure she can hear it, and stare down at the rest of my cookies and cream. How can it be so hot in this ice cream shop? Shouldn’t there be industrial-strength air conditioning in this place?
I take a massive bite of my cone, shoving far more into my mouth than necessary.
I’m unconcerned with how it makes me look, because I’m clinging to the hope that this will cool me off.
It doesn’t help, especially not when Maxinne dabs at her skin with a napkin, her focus elsewhere, completely unaware of the sweat gathering along my hairline at her motion.
“That’s not how you eat an ice cream cone, Uncle Z.” Annabelle laughs, shaking her head as she thrusts a handful of napkins into my chest.
“No, it’s how you get a brain freeze,” Maxinne snickers.
I lift my eyes and see that she’s watching me now, her lips pressed together like she’s barely holding back a smile. I chew the best that I can and swallow, instantly regretting inhaling my ice cream. A sharp pain shoots behind my eyes, and I pinch the bridge of my nose.
Maxinne lets out a laugh. “You okay?”
“Yeah, fantastic,” I mutter through clenched teeth.
The pain finally eases, and I wipe at my mouth and chin. There’s amusement behind her gaze as she reaches over, a napkin in her hand, and dabs my cheek.
“You missed a spot.”
The touch is brief, only the brush of her napkin against my skin, but it stirs a tug deep in my stomach. I go still, acutely aware of how close she is and of the thoughtful curve of her mouth as she pulls her hand away.
It takes a humbling amount of restraint not to lean in and close the space between us.
It would be so easy to kiss her in the middle of this ice cream shop.
It’s a good thing I have Annabelle here as a buffer, because the urge is getting harder and harder to ignore.
I’m worried about what would happen if I gave in to the urge before I know what the future could be for us.
As the girls finish the rest of their ice cream, I check my phone to see if I have any updates from Raine and Ryland. As soon as they’re back home, I’m supposed to bring Annabelle to them. I have no new messages, so I slide my phone into my pocket right as Annabelle finishes her last bite.
I lean closer to the table, resting my forearms against the cool metal, and ask, “Would you two like to walk around downtown for a bit?”
“Yes!” Annabelle practically squeals and springs to her feet so fast that her chair scrapes against the floor.
She grabs my hand, nearly dragging me along with her excitement. I glance back to find Maxinne already on her feet, grinning as she follows us outside and onto Main Street. We’re about to approach The Groovy Bean when Annabelle’s shoe catches in a crack in the sidewalk.
Before I can grab a hold of her, she pitches forward with a startling cry and hits the pavement hard. The sound of her knees meeting concrete makes my chest seize, especially as she lets out a sharp cry.
“Oh—Anna,” I gasp, already rushing toward her.
Panic floods my system, and I scoop her up, my heart hammering as I scan her knees, both scraped raw and bleeding.
“It’s okay, princess. You’re okay. Let’s get her inside The Groovy Bean, I know they have a first aid kit,” I say, already turning toward the coffee shop.
“Zane.” Maxinne’s steady voice stops me in my place. “I have a first aid kit in my purse.”
She’s right beside us now as I shift Annabelle higher in my arms.
“Let’s get her to that bench,” she says, pointing to the small bench a few feet from us.
I nod, grateful for the direction. I sit Annabelle down carefully, crouching in front of her as she sobs.
Before I can do anything else, Maxinne is already unzipping her purse.
She pulls out what looks to be a small, handmade first aid kit.
Inside are glass spray bottles, a tin of balm, and soft, earth-toned bandages that don’t look like anything you’d find in a drugstore.
“It’s going to be okay. We need to clean your scrapes, okay?” Maxinne speaks gently to Annabelle, her voice completely calm. “I promise this part is the worst of it. It might sting for a second, but then it’ll feel better. Are you ready?”
Annabelle whimpers but gives her a nod.
Maxinne sprays a light mist over Annabelle’s knees, and the sharp scent of herbs cuts through the air.
Annabelle flinches for a second before she stills, her cries tapering off into hiccups as Maxinne carefully cleans the scrapes.
She scoops a bit of balm from the tin, rubbing it onto a cotton ball before smoothing it over the wounds with practiced care.
“There,” she says softly. “This stuff will help you to heal quicker.”
She finishes by placing a bandage on each of Annabelle’s knees. When she’s done, Annabelle looks down, sniffles once, then lifts her arms. Without hesitation, Maxinne leans in as Annabelle wraps her small arms around her neck in a tight hug.
“Thank you,” Annabelle whispers.
Maxinne smiles, hugging her back. “Of course, sweetheart. You’re so brave.”
As she pulls away, she wipes the rest of Annabelle’s tears and gives her a nod.
“Do you want to try to walk?” I ask her, reaching a hand out.
Annabelle hesitates at first before she places her hand into mine and tries to stand. “It hurts.” She winces, sitting back down, and her lower lip wobbles. I swear the sight of it squeezes my heart.
“Do you know what my mom used to do for me when I got hurt or if I was having a bad day?” Maxinne says softly, pushing a hair away from Annabelle’s forehead.
She shakes her head, a fresh tear falling from her lashes.
“She used to take me to a pet store. Seeing all of the animals would always cheer me up,” Maxinne adds, looking up at me. “Isn’t there one down the street?”
I swallow, giving her a nod.
“If Uncle Z is okay with it,” Maxinne adds lightly, turning back to Annabelle, “maybe we could walk over there. I’m pretty sure there’s nothing a few animal friends can’t fix.”
She gives Annabelle a boop on her nose, earning a small grin from her in return.
“Can we please go?” Annabelle asks me, already pushing herself to her feet again.
“Yeah, we can go.”
We walk slowly at first with Annabelle wedged comfortably between us, one hand in mine, her other curled around Maxinne’s. I glance over at Maxinne more times than I can count, watching the way she keeps pace with Annabelle, and how her attention never fully leaves her.
It amazes me how naturally she handled that situation.
She didn’t panic or second-guess what to do.
She jumped right into action and made everything okay.
I’m learning that she does that with everyone in her life.
She did that for Derek. When Ashton needed her help with their dad, she swooped right in to be there for them.
But when has someone ever done that for her?
“Do you always carry a first aid kit with you?” I finally ask.
She chuckles softly. “Yeah. I always carry one around with the normal stuff, but the spray and ointment I made myself.”
That stops me in my tracks. “You made them?”
She nods, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “The spray’s a botanical antiseptic I made out of calendula and lavender and a few other things. The balm helps with healing and inflammation. I’ve been making stuff like this for years. It’s something my dad taught me when I was a kid.”
I shake my head, thoroughly impressed with this amazing woman. An idea hits me. “You know, Covewood Botanicals would probably love your stuff.”
She glances over at me, surprise widening her eyes a bit. “What?”
“You’ve been there and seen that they sell handcrafted products.” I gesture vaguely. “I don’t think they have anything like what you’ve made. People would love it.”
“That’s funny that you say that, because my ultimate dream would be to run my own store like that one day.
I’d love to sell things like these, natural cleaning products, herbs and spices, and so much more.
That’s why it’s so important for me to finish my degree.
I want to do something good in the world by using plants. ”
“I hope you know how incredible you are, Max,” I add, and her lips curve into a small smile.
Before she can respond, Annabelle announces that we’re almost there. We cross the street toward the pet shop, and the bell above the door gives us a cheerful jingle as we step inside. Annabelle’s grip on my hand tightens with excitement as we make our way farther into the store.