Page 24 of Make Mine Sweet
“They’re our neighbors,” I explain before she can take August at his word. “They live in the other half of Amy and Jodi’s duplex.”
“You live next door to two men?”
August giggles. “Dutch is a dog.”
This clarification doesn’t seem to make things better in Mom’s eyes. “Tell me about Ian then.”
“He’s funny. He has a big beard and red hair, and he likes Mama and he can throw a stick really far.”
Thank you, precious child, for that unnecessary commentary.
“You hit all the important points, buddy,” Wren tells him with a grin.
Mom’s blond eyebrows lift practically to her hairline, and I can tell she’s got a hundred questions dancing on the tip of her tongue.
“He’s Amy’s nephew, and she vouched for his character. He’s pretty new to town and doesn’t know anybody here. We’ve had a couple of conversations in the back yard while August plays with the dog. That’s it.”
Best for everyone at this table to hear me loud and clear. Including me.
“I’m not sure I’ve met him.” Mom’s still watching me as though waiting for a big confession.
“You’ve probably seen him, though. He’s the guy with long red hair and a big red beard who looks like a Viking warrior.”
Wren’s ever so helpful. It’s my turn to nudgehershin under the table, but I add more zest to it than she did. She sticks her tongue out at me in return.
Because we’re grown ups.
“You said he looks like a pirate,” I mutter.
“Oh, he definitely looks like both.”
Mom’s gaze darkens as though she’s figured out who Wren means. “I don’t know how I feel about you living so close to…him.”
Her inflection makes me weirdly defensive. After our father left us when we were young, and later, when I came home pregnant on my own, our family battled countless whispers in this town. People judged us based on what little information they saw or heard. They filled in blanks from their own imagination, without ever knowing the real story. I wouldn’t have expected Mom to join that crowd based solely on someone’s appearance.
It took me a long time to hold my head high and refuse to let nosy townsfolk get the best of me. Whatever else Ian’s going through, judgmental stares and critical commentary are one more reason for him to avoid coming into town. People probably whisper about him, or even avoid him. All because his hair’s a little scruffy and he doesn’t hand out smiles like he’s running for mayor? Now more than ever, I see what Amy meant when she told me about him last month—he needs a friend. And I intend to be that for him.
He can fight my efforts, but I’m still going to try.
“Ian’s perfectly safe,” I tell her. “If anything, you should be happy we have a man living next door in case there’s an emergency.”
Even if I suspect Ian would ignore my screams for help, thinking of his eventual peace when a bear drags me off into the wilderness.
EIGHT
IAN
I should have just hadmy groceries delivered. My quick trip into town is taking twice as long as I thought it would. This late in the day, I’m tired of wearing my prosthesis and just want to go home and take it off. But this store isn’t laid out like I expect, and I have to hunt for every blessed item on my list.
I shuffle my cart forward another foot, rolling my eyes at myself. Am I actually complaining about grocery store layouts? I just need to yell at some kids to get off my lawn and my transformation into a grumpy old man will be complete.
I frown at the rows of cereal boxes. I haven’t been much of anything else to my new neighbors. Questioning Tess’s motives when she brought me a gift and talking about rattlesnakes for some unknown reason. That was the best I could do in the face of her generosity. Grind out warnings about snakes and bears, oh my.
Not sure it’s entirely my fault. She throws me off at every turn. Her kindness has to be for show—nobody’s that cheerful twenty-four-seven. And does she have to smell so sweet? It’s like she’s been rolled in fruit and brown sugar, and I hate myself for wanting a taste.
“You’re nothing like I remember you.”
Join the club.
