Page 8 of The Great Maple Mistake

“No, it’s—”

“You’re going to tell me it’s fine, and I say nonsense. Allergies are no joke.” She peers over her Ray-Bans and pins me with her bright blue gaze.

An elegant Black woman in a white button-front shirt with the sleeves rolled up her forearms, black capris, and strappy sandals saunters up and puts her arm around the waist of the first woman. “Rae, making new friends?”

Rae leans up and kisses her cheek. “Eleanor, the poor boy has an allergy to maple, and he’s trying to make light of it.”

Eleanor tisks. “Young man, allergies need to be taken seriously. One of our bandmates has an allergy to bee stings, and she almost died on tour.” Eleanor turns to Rae. “When was that, lovey? Nineteen eighty-four? Eighty-five?”

“Ninety-five. We were playing Metropol in Pittsburgh.”

Eleanor kisses Rae’s temple. “Yes, that’s right. We were walking down by the Monongahela River at Station Square, and bam! Bee stung her right in the shoulder. Thank god there were three or four hospitals right in the area. Paramedics arrived in minutes, administered epinephrine, and she was fine, but it could have been much worse. Do you have an EpiPen?”

I shake my head and try to explain again. “No, I—”

Rae interrupts again, but Finn comes to my rescue. “It’s fine. I’m here, I have an EpiPen on me.” He pats the fanny pack around his waist. “And Alex and I will make sure Cody’s fine.”

They look skeptical. Alex nods vigorously, and when he gets a word in before they can, I’m hopeful he’ll clear things up. “Really. We’ll make sure he doesn’t eat anything with maple in, on, or near it. In fact, maybe we’ll just go back to my house and make lunch.” Okay, so much for the hope that he’d end their mistake.

I also have no idea if Alex is serious about going to his house, or not, but both women immediately relax. “That sounds like a good idea.” Eleanor shakes her finger at me. “You should take your allergy more seriously, Cody. I’m not sure what you were thinking by coming to Frozen Fest with a maple allergy.” She squeezes my hand. “Be careful. Our Alex here seems to like you, and we’ve been waiting for him to find his person.” She leans in, looking me dead in the eyes, and I admit it’s a bit nerve-racking. “Do not disappoint him.”

“Yes, ma’am. I mean, no ma’am, I won’t.” What am I saying? We aren’t even dating. Yet, anyway. At least, I don’t think we are. I glance at Alex, and his cheeks are a rosy red. It’s adorable. “I would hate to ever disappoint him.”

Her smile is brilliant, and she puts her arm around Rae’s waist again, giving her a gentle tug. “Okay, lovey, what say we go find some ice cream? I have a taste for something sweet.”

“Sweets for my sweet. Absolutely.”

We watch them walk off in search of dessert, and then I turn to Alex and Finn. “What just happened?”

They shrug, and Alex squeezes my hand. “Hey, you don’t really have a maple allergy, do you?”

“No. Not at all.”

Finn laughs. “Good, because I don’t really have an EpiPen on me.” He peers into my eyes. “You’re sure you don’t have an allergy to maple?”

“Hey, I have no idea where they came up with that. I don’t eat maple because—” I cut myself off and wipe my hand along my jaw, trying not to shudder at the memory. “There was an incident when I was little.” I try to think of the best way to explain. “The first time you got drunk, really drunk, was it on one specific kind of alcohol?”

Alex blinks. “Please tell me you didn’t get drunk when you were little.”

“What? Oh!” I laugh and shake my head. “God, no.”

“Okay. Well, to answer your question, yes.” Alex looks at Finn and they both grimace. “Peach schnapps. I can’t drink it to this day.”

Finn winces. “Me either.”

I nod and point between both of them. “Yes! That! My best friend and I—we may have eaten far too much maple butter as kids. His mom made it to put on roasted carrots, hoping that would tempt us to eat them.” Saliva starts pooling in my mouth and I can feel myself sweating. “We ate enough carrots to satisfy her, but after dinner we snuck into the fridge and got the tub of maple butter and two spoons. We ate so much of it we made ourselves sick.” I wipe my forehead and take a deep breath.

Alex gives my hand a shake, bringing my attention back to him. “Hey. No need to relive the trauma. We understand. No maple. Not a problem.”

I laugh. “Says the guy standing in the middle of a Maplewood festival.” My stomach attempts a small heave.

Alex squeezes my hand. “Quick, we need to distract him.”

He glances at Finn, who shrugs. “Don’t look at me. I don’t have any anti-nausea medication on me.”

“Ugh! Fine.” Alex jogs toward the burger booth, skipping the growing line, and says something to the guy working the grill. He looks over at me and nods, tossing Alex a bottle of water fresh from the icy tub behind him. Alex rushes back and hands the wet but deliciously cold bottle to me. “Here. Drink this.”

Instead, I place the icy cold bottle against the base of my neck, and the nausea recedes enough for me to crack open the water and chug it down. “Thank you. That helped a lot.” When I look at Alex, he’s chewing on his lower lip, something obviously bothering him. “What?”

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