Page 80 of Honey Be Mine
Early Monday before the rest of the house was stirring, Aunt Camellia made her a cup of coffee and said, “Rosemary, I’m worried about you.” She slid a plate of honey oat muffins and honey butter biscuits onto the table. “I know you’re a grown woman and fully capable of taking care of yourself, but I’ve been known to have good solid shoulders to lean on and ears that work just fine, if you need someone to listen.”
Rosemary turned her coffee cup in her hands. “I’m sure Tansy and Astrid have filled you in on...things?” She glanced at her aunt. Her sisters had been shocked over Everett’s change of heart, but so far, they’d respected her wishes to leave it alone.
“They’ve mentioned a few things. But you’re the only one that knows what’s really weighing you down. That’s what I’d like to hear about.” She sipped her coffee, put the cup on the table, and reached into her apron pocket. “If you’re inclined to share, that is.” She held up an oyster cracker. “How’s my boy?” she crooned to Lord Byron. “How’s my handsome boy?”
Lord Byron cooed and fawned over Aunt Camellia. She was his person; the bird tolerated everyone else. “Handsome boy,” he echoed.
“Yes, you are.” She fed him another cracker and ran her fingers over his head. “So handsome.”
Lord Byron clucked and whistled, closing his eyes and leaning into her touch.
Rosemary watched the familiar exchange. Lord Byron had been here when she and her sisters had come to live on Honey Hill Farms years ago. Even then, he’d adored Aunt Camellia more than anyone or anything—except maybe oyster crackers.
Aunt Camellia nodded at the plate. “Eat something and settle your stomach.”
How did her aunt know her stomach was upset? Because she always knew, just like she always gave good advice.I doneedadvice.“I’m not sure what to do about Everett.” Rosebud leaned forward to rest her forehead on the kitchen table. The second she closed her eyes, she could see him. Those warm brown eyes staring at her like kissing her was the only thing that mattered. No, that’s what she’d wanted to see. That wasn’t how he felt. She swallowed against the lump in her throat.
“Does something need to be done?” Aunt Camellia asked.
She shrugged, her forehead still on the table. “I don’t know. I hope so. I need to...to be happy with our friendship.” Her words were muffled.
“When did you stop being happy with your friendship?”
“When I fell in love with him.” She raised her head, meeting her aunt’s gaze.
“Oh.” Aunt Camellia blinked. “I see.”
“I don’t know how to make that go away. But I need to becausethishurts.” She ran her hands over her hair. “I can’t stop seeing him as...” She shrugged, words failing her. “Manly Everett.” She winced.
“He’s always been a man, dear.” Aunt Camellia fed another cracker to Lord Byron and sat across from her. “But I think I understand what you mean. I’d known Van for years before I realized what dreamboat of a man he was.” Her expression softened. “I hate that I wasted so many years being so blind.”
Rosemary nodded. “At least Van loves you back.”
Aunt Camellia’s smile was sympathetic. “And Everett doesn’t?”
She shook her head. “He said he wants to stay friends. Always. He doesn’t want anything to happen that might ruin that.” Like kisses that had turned her world upside down and made her realize what a kiss could be. Kisses he wasn’t going to waste time thinking about. Her chest grew hollow and achy.
Aunt Camellia frowned, pushing the plate across the table. “I’m sorry you’re hurting. Heartache is no slight thing.”
Rosemary nodded.
“This likely won’t offer much consolation now, but you’re young and strong, and things have a way of working out like they should. It might not feel that way now, but give it time.” She patted her hand. “And eat.”
She sat up and put a biscuit and muffin on one of the plates Aunt Camellia had put on the table. “Seeing you and Van together makes things better. I’m so glad you’re so happy, Aunt Camellia.”
Her aunt’s face was wreathed in smiles. “I am, too. He’s the sweetest man on the planet. It was his idea to make this our home. I think he understood how important it was for me to stay here.” She peered around the kitchen—her kitchen. “I can’t imagine living anyplace else.”
Rosemary looked around the room, too. While she loved the big old house where she’d spent her childhood, it wasn’t these walls that made it her home. It was the people who lived within them. Still, she could understand why her aunts might feel differently. They had lived their whole lives here.
“You’ve freshened up all the bees and flowers throughout the house—better than ever, I’d say.” Aunt Camellia took a muffin for herself. “You’ve taken a very important job with Everett, you’ve written your first children’s book, and I hear you’re going to start queen-rearing here on the farm?” She peeled the wrapper off the muffin. “It sounds to me like you’re been keeping yourself busy.”
Rosemary nodded.
“But are you happy?” She broke off a piece of her muffin. “You can stay busy from dawn till dusk, but it won’t matter if you’re not happy.”
She didn’t have to think about her answer. Shewashappy. Being home, with her family, finding new ways to fuel her passion. Even with the hole in her heart, she was happy.
Could she stay that way, wanting Everett and not being able to have him? Worse, wanting Everett and seeing him happy when he found the woman he did want? Just thinking about it was a knife to the heart.
