Page 32 of Crumbling Truth
My mother laughed. “And how are you and Esther getting along?”
My eyes narrowed as I glanced down at my phone. “You know, I’m beginning to suspect you meant for me to think she was some doddering old lady when you asked me to come keep an eye on her. I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t appreciate being treated like she’s helpless.”
“No,” Mom agreed readily enough, “she would not. I certainly hope you haven’t been treating her that way.”
“Fortunately, I was raised better than that. We’re getting along just fine, too.”
There was a beat of silence where I was certain my mother was picking apart every nuance of that sentence, but then a knock at the door sent my spirits rising.
“Someone’s here, I better go. Take care, Mom. Give my love to everyone.”
“Love you, honey. Tell Esther I said hello!”
The call ended before I could decipher if she thought it was Esther at the door or if she meant it more generally.
Sure enough, though, there stood the woman in question when I threw open the side door, looking achingly sweet and holding a pie plate in her hands. The pale gray of her sweater morphed her eyes into huge silver disks, blinking up at me like she’d forgotten what she was going to say.
“Esther, hey. Come in, it’s freezing out there.”
I held open the door for her to step past me and watched as she steadied herself, then turned to offer me the plate. It looked like some kind of pink pie with a chocolate crust and pieces of candy cane crumbled across the top.
“It’s peppermint cheesecake,” she said in a rush. “I just…look, I’m really sorry I flipped out on you.”
My mouth dropped open for a second. “Esther, Jesus, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out how to apologize for being such an asshole. Sometimes my mouth starts going before my brain catches up.”
One shoulder lifted and fell. “It’s okay, really. You were trying to protect me. I overreacted.”
“I shouldn’t have brought up the one subject you asked me not to. Now that we’ve established our mutual regret and forgiveness, please tell me you’ll stay and enjoy some of this with me?” I ventured hopefully.
With a soft, shy smile, Esther nodded. “I will, sure.”
“Come on. This looks amazing.”
As she followed me into the kitchen, she said, “You didn’t drop off flowers earlier, did you?”
I paused, brows drawn down in confusion. “No, I didn’t. Someone sent you flowers?”
“Maybe? They were outside my door, no card. I don’t know who they came from, but the smell is a little overwhelming. Since they’re not from you, I can safely tell you I hate lilies.”
“Who do you think sent them?” I asked, rubbing my hand over my beard. It was stupid to feel a quick flash of jealousy at the thought of some secret admirer making a move on Esther, but I couldn’t quite control the instinctive reaction.
“I don’t know. Nobody who knows me would send flowers, because I hate them, but sometimes customers give me little things as a thank you.”
“I assume chocolates are probably a no go with your allergies, and so are flowers. Noted.”
I didn’t like the idea of someone else sending her gifts like that—it annoyed me in a way I couldn’t deny, but she didn’t seem overly concerned about it, so I tried to let it go. Maybe Sofia had dropped them off for her, maybe my mother was meddling yet again—but if they were close enough to know she wouldn’t like receiving a bouquet, why would either of them send it?
Sleazy Tyler and his bolo tie flashed through my mind, along with his comment about making a move, but why bother if he wasn’t going to include a note to take credit for it?
I shook off my unease and sliced into the cheesecake, serving it up onto my mother’s favorite little plates, the ones covered in flowers and edged with gold. Instead of sitting at the table, though, I nodded my head toward the family room where I’d been spending most of my time. I didn’t want the dining table between us, not when she was clearly willing to breach the chasm of last night’s disaster.
Esther curled up at one end of the plush sofa, tucking her feet underneath her so she was angled toward me. I caught a glimpse of her fuzzy pink socks and my lips twitched.
“What?” she asked primly. “I like cozy fabrics, is that a crime?”
“No,” I replied, thinking about just how much I’d like to cozy up to her. Everything about her today looked soft and welcoming.
From the way her gaze jerked to my face, I suspected my tone conveyed that more clearly than I’d intended, but she bit her lip to hide a smile. I wondered what exactly was going on in that beautiful head of hers. She dropped her eyes to her plate and I watched as she placed a delicate bite of the pink cheesecake between her lips.
