Page 74 of Make Mine Sweet
The three dots appeared and disappeared twice before her response finally came through.
Tess: It’s the pirate in you
Ian: Arr
Yes. I’ve been reduced to “arr-ing”at the woman. Twice now. Like a scurvy-riddled lunatic.
August flops into the chair across from me. “Do you like honey?”
My thoughts go straight to Tess trickling golden honey into her coffee this morning. I’ve always thought it too sweet, but I would very much like to taste honey off her lips.
Only a pirate would think about something like that right in front of her child. Still. I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted anything more.
“I don’t mind it,” I tell him.
He scratches the side of his face, leaving a trail of dirt. “I like honey, but I don’t like bees. And Mama says we have to have bees to get honey.”
“This is true. They put a lot of work in to make that honey.” Although, if he knew exactly how bees make honey, he might not like it as much. Steven told me aboutbee vomitwhen I was nine, and I didn’t eat the stuff again until well into adulthood.
“What else makes stuff?” August kicks his feet back and forth, his wide blue eyes stuck on me.
“Hmm. Cows make milk.”
He lights up like I’m helping him solve world hunger. “Yeah, cows!”
“Chickens lay eggs.” This game is surprisingly hard.
“I like eggs.”
I snap my fingers. “We shear sheep to get wool.”
He seems less impressed with that one. “What else?”
I’m running out of ideas that aren’t just animal parts. Talking about ivory and leather doesn’t really seem kid-friendly. “I can’t think of any more.”
“What about monkeys?”
I have to think for a second. “What do we get from monkeys?”
“Wrenches!” He bursts into laughter, revealing his gap-toothed grin.
I sure like to hear him laugh. “That’s a pretty good joke.”
“Max told me that one in Kindergarten.”
“You already finished Kindergarten? Wow.”
He nods, his little chest puffed up. “I’m going into first grade this year. After I turn six on July six. Isn’t that funny? Six on the sixth.”
It is funny, for more reasons than he knows. “July sixth is my birthday, too.”
His eyes go as wide as saucers. “No lie?”
“No lie. But I’ll turn a few years older than you will.”
He laughs again. “Alotmore years.”
Harsh, kid.
