Page 53 of Crumbling Truth
Though the event didn’t officially start for another hour, there were already people milling about in Town Park when we arrived. Esther carefully maneuvered the truck along the service road, following the orange-vested volunteer’s directions to our assigned spot. The sight of kids chasing each other around the playground at the edge of the grass threw me straight back to my childhood. I jerked myself from the memories when Esther turned off the engine and followed my line of sight.
Together, we watched for another minute, then she quietly asked, “Do you want kids?” At my startled look, she flushed. “Not with me. I meant in general. Someday.”
“Maybe someday,” I hedged. “You?”
For a long moment, she was silent. I started to think she wasn’t going to answer when she gave a tiny shrug and unbuckled her seatbelt. “Maybe.”
The way she said it made me think there was a lot more to her feelings on the subject, but she hopped out of the driver’s seat to open the back of the truck and started sorting through the carefully organized desserts on tonight’s menu. I followed more slowly, giving her a few extra seconds of privacy, if that was what she needed. The temptation to simply fold her back into my arms was strong, but I forced myself to resist.
We got everything set up, including a cash box and Esther’s iPad for credit card purchases. The evening was chilly, and though it hadn’t snowed yet, the promise of it hung in the air. When Esther paused to inhale deeply, I offered a fond smile instead of teasing her about it.
She wrinkled her nose at me and busied herself with making sure the chalkboard menu on the outside of the truck’s serving window was updated and smudge-free.
The residents of Spruce Hill took their townwide festivities very seriously; before long, the park was teeming with people. Strings of lights delineated the row of food trucks and vendors before opening wide to the green in front of a huge eastern white pine. There were a few carnival-type games set up down the lane and Christmas music played from speakers dotting the area.
“This is much cooler than I remember from when I was a kid,” I said after she handed a small box of cupcakes to a family of four.
She batted her lashes at me. “Does that mean you’re going to win me a teddy bear before the night is through?”
I glanced over at the games, then flexed my biceps dramatically for her. “Hell yes it does,” I vowed, winking when she laughed.
“Purple is an excellent color on you, by the way.”
“Not as good as it is on you. In fact, after careful consideration, I know what dessert I’m going to choose at the end of the night,” I murmured into her ear.
“Oh, do you?” she asked. Her eyes shone like discs of pure moonlight as she blinked up at me with wide-eyed innocence.
Behind the counter, hidden from view, I cupped my hand over the curve of her ass and kneaded lightly. “Oh, yes, Esther, I do.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Esther
BeforeIcouldrespondto Theo—or shoo him away—a group of customers appeared and he removed his hand to help me serve them. We had a line at the window from that moment until a tiny lull half an hour in, then a steady stream that kept us too busy for either conversation or covert groping.
Of course, quite a few of our customers lingered to express their delight at seeing Theo back in town. Fortunately for him, the people lining up behind the gossip mongers prevented anyone from asking too many questions.
Theo was unfailingly polite, but as he deflected another round of well-intentioned probing, I began to feel bad about putting him in this position.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said when we had another moment to breathe between orders. “I can handle things here if you want to leave.”
He drew up to his full height and scowled down at me. “Esther, I take my role as sidekick seriously. A few busybodiesaren’t going to scare me away, trust me. Besides, I’m sure you’ve dealt with far worse.”
That much was true.
In the early days of the business, even before I bought the truck, every delivery required an extra ten minutes to parry with inquisitive customers who wanted to express their condolences and dig for juicy details. The rumor that I’d killed my husband was actually one of the best things that could have happened at the time—a few bland smiles, a cryptic answer here and there, and people started to shy away from prying.
Just the memory of it made me huff out a quiet laugh, but Theo heard it and waited until we had a break to ask what was so funny.
“Just thinking about how ready everyone was to believe I killed my husband. Am I really that scary?”
He threw back his head and laughed. “You seemed put out when I told you I didn’t think you were a murderer, remember?”
“I could be,” I grumbled, “under the right circumstances.”
“Esther, you are a delight,” he said as he dropped a quick kiss to my lips.
I started to reply, but a chorus of coos came from the window and I flushed hot when it turned out to be the entire crew from our dinner at The Mermaid. Ollie and Julian had their heads tipped together and hands clasped to their chests like we were the cutest thing they’d ever seen, while Melody, Theresa, and Sofia grinned like the Cheshire Cat. Only Chase looked embarrassed to have caught us in a private moment, mouthing, “Sorry,” at us before his wife elbowed him in the ribs.
