Page 22 of Craving Francesca

“Gray,” a sweet voice called from across the room. Lou hurried toward me, carrying a bag in her arms. “I was hoping you were here!”

“Hey,” I replied as Dad grinned beside me. It was hard not to smile at the woman. She was tiny as hell, full of energy, and beautiful in a really delicate way. Her hair was cropped short, which wasn’t something I was normally into, but Lou worked it.

“This is a little thank you from me and Frankie,” Lou chirped, shoving the bag at me. Her eyes widened, and she didn’t let go of it. “You don’t have any allergies, do you?”

“Pineapple,” I said slowly.

She let go of the bag. It was surprisingly heavy. “Oh, good. Nothing pineapple in there.”

“Whatisin there?” Dad asked in amusement.

“There’s a list,” Lou informed us. “So, you know what everything is. But—” She rolled her eyes to the ceiling as she counted off with her fingers. “Banana bread. Zucchini bread. Chocolate zucchini muffins. A yummy candle, I don’t remember which scent we gave you. Um, two jars of raspberry jam and three strawberry. Spicy pickled asparagus. Two applesauce. Oh, and a couple of joints.”

Dad let out a bark of laughter.

“I made most of the food,” Lou whispered, grinning. “Frankie contributed the weed and the candle. She said no one would be hungry enough for the treats unless they were high as hell.”

“Solid logic,” I murmured.

“She said it’s her favorite. I rarely partake, so I have no idea why—but she said it’s really good.”

“I’ll check it out,” I replied. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“We wanted to,” Lou replied, still smiling. “Thank you so much for helping us move.”

“Wasn’t that like two months ago?” my dad asked.

“Yeah, but we haven’t seen Gray since then,” Lou explained. “Everyone else got their thank you gifts ages ago.”

“How’s the house workin’ out?”

“It’s great,” Lou replied. “The sun porch is freaking awesome. You should come over soon! We’re having everyone over day after tomorrow for Frankie’s birthday. Come around six.” She waved her hand around. “Or earlier. Whatever. We’ll be there all night. I’ll make sure there are no pineapples in attendance.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Dad beat me to it.

“Bring your sister,” he ordered. “Be good for her to be around normal people.”

“You act like she works with aliens.”

“Might as well be.”

“Harper’s home?” Lou asked, her voice just a fraction lower than a squeal. “Yeah, tell her to come! I haven’t seen her in months.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Awesome! See you Friday!” She bounced out of the clubhouse. “Bye, Uncle Leo.”

“See you later, sweetheart.”

“Why does she call you uncle?” I asked, looking into the bag.

“Told her to when she was about twelve,” he said with a chuckle. “Myla brought her to a barbecue or somethin’. When I introduced myself, I said, ‘Hey, you can call me Uncle Leo.’ She’s never called me anythin’ else.”

“Great story,” I muttered, only half paying attention. Of course Frankie had been the one to put weed in the thank you basket. That tracked.

“Why are you avoidin’ them?” Dad asked as I set the bag on the bar top.

“I’m not.”

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