“Son,” Zac says with a chuckle, “you’re proving to be braver than I would have thought. You realize you are sassing a Sweetkiss woman?” He lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. “If I were you, I’d start running again. Now.”
“Stop it. No one is running anywhere any time soon,” Georgie says. She takes a breath and closes her eyes, a move I recognize from the moments when she’s needed to gather herself. She pauses for a few seconds before allowing her eyes to flutter open, looking at Duncan with more empathy than was there before. “But he’s right. You don’t need to talk to me like that. I’m not mad, Duncan. I just want to know why you did it.”
Heat hits my cheeks. Not the fun kind, but the “I am so embarrassed right now” kind. It’s my first week being officially in charge—my third day, actually, into this new life—and already I feel like I’m failing. Maybe some of us are not meant to be parents.
I turn to face Georgie, putting a hand on Duncan’s shoulder. I’m hoping it comforts him, but I also want to be able to grab him if he starts to run away. “It doesn’t matter why he did it, he did it. I’m sorry this happened.”
Natural instinct leads me to reach into my pocket and pull out my wallet. As soon as I do, both Zac and Georgie give me their opinions.
“No way, Levi,” Zac says, Georgie shaking her head beside him. “Not trying to be a buzzkill, but sometimes it helps if you do something more as punishment.”
“I’m not going to let you arrest him…” I begin, and Zac laughs.
“No, not that either. Unless”—he snaps his head toward Georgie—“the owner wants to press charges?”
Georgie, with her arms still threaded tight in front of her, lets her eyes rock to each of us individually for a moment as she processes things. After a heavy thirty seconds of silence, which feels more like five minutes, she shakes her head and lets her arms drop to her side.
“No. I won’t press charges,” she says, letting her gaze rest on Duncan. “This time. But if you do it again, at my store or anyone else’s, I think someone should hold you accountable.”
Duncan’s shoulders visibly drop as he exhales. I think it’s the first time I’ve seen him relax like this since I met him. I’m trying to decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing when I get an idea.
“Can I see that?” I hold out my hand to Georgie, pointing to the cookbook in her hand. She gives it to me, and I open the cover and flip through its pages. It’s just a cookbook about five-ingredient meals. I’m not sure what the cause for all of this is, but it’s something Duncan wants.
“Who did you get it for?” I ask.
“Mrs. Porter,” he squeaks, the ten-year-old beginning to shine through.
Closing the book, I turn to Duncan. “You wanted to get this for my mother?”
Eyes downcast, he nods.
A small group of people walk by us, making their way down the street, singing songs as a group. Duncan eyes them, his face clouding over. When I turn to see why he’s so dark and stormy, I find what appears to be a family: father, mother, and two children all laughing and cajoling, and glowing, literally, with love. Looking back at Duncan, I see sadness reflected in his eyes and suddenly understand his reaction.
“Did Mrs. Porter do something that made you want to get her this book?” Georgie asks. When my eyes meet hers, something in the way shelooks at me tells me she’s beginning to understand his defensive ways as well.
Duncan lifts a shoulder, letting it drop heavily as he sighs. “She gave me a picture of my mom and dad. Framed. And put it in my bedroom for me to have on my first night.”
I get a punch in my gut while my heart warms, but the layer of guilt is thick. What a dichotomy of emotions. I should have thought of that. Of course my mom would think to do it, a small thing but something that made him a little more comfortable.
She’s a mom. She knows what to do. She got the manual….although after raising two boys mostly on her own, she probably helped write it.
“That was really nice of her to do,” Georgie says, her voice soft with understanding. “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t expect a gift from you as a thank you.”
“I dunno,” he eeks out.
Georgie takes the book from my grasp and hands it to Duncan. “So you know, I do offer a friends and family discount. If you want to buy it, you’re entitled to twenty-five percent off.”
Duncan, who’s kept his gaze on the sidewalk, allows the ends of his lips to begin a slow ascent upward. Now, that’s the trajectory I’m talking about.
“Really?” he murmurs as he looks at Georgie.
“Yes,” Georgie says. “And it’s your lucky night because this particular book is going on the clearance table tomorrow. For fifty percent off. So, if you want to buy it tonight, I’m prepared to give you a good deal.”
As Duncan’s expectant eyes land on mine, I feel this pull. The want to say yes, because that is a good deal, but also I feel like we’re making it too easy on him. I mean, the kid did just try to steal this book and then run away with it, so there’s that.
It’s been a wildride to get Duncan here, into my care. It was only last year when his parents died. I was still processing the loss of them when my lawyer called and told me that Tom, one of my best buddies growing up, and Katie had made me his official guardian the day I became his godfather.
The part that’s embarrassing here is in my naivety around being a godfather. I didn’t realize this would be the case. I thought my job was to send presents for his birthday and holidays, and to touch base every now and then. I was prepared to be his buddy when he grew up, maybe hang out with him sometimes, take him to a football game or two. But no.
