“Want something to drink?”
I considered his question. I mean, on the one hand, a beer sounded like perfection. On the other hand, did I really need anything lowering my inhibitions right now? Oh Goddess, I could use some guidance. Hmm, going with the gut seemed like the right call. “Sure. Beer, if you’ve got it.”
“Own a brewery, babe. What’s your pleasure?”
“We’re back to babe?”
“What do you prefer?”
“Or, I don’t know, my actual name?”
“I like a nickname, Ivy. You have a good point with gypsy, so I landed on babe. What else? At the brewery this spring you shared that you identify as a green witch, whatever that means. I could go with that. Or should I search for something else?”
“Good memory,” I murmured. “What was it Addie was calling you? Just Jake? Be careful, she does love to give out nicknames too.”
“So,Ivy, I have an IPA, a stout, and a Belgium Wheat.”
I considered his list. “Are you putting any beer in the chili?”
His eyes widened in surprise. I bit back my irritation. I mean, I can cook. Jake looked in his fridge and grabbed several items before turning to me. “Yeah, I think I’ll use the stout. We started this last fall, and it has gotten better with each batch. It has hints of coffee and chocolate, which would work. Barn Owl Stout. Do you want that to drink too?”
Sounded good.
I nodded, and we began to work in silence until Jake leaned over and put his phone near mine on the counter.
“Do you have dance parties like Addie?”
I gave him a small grin. “Who do you think taught her?”
He tilted his head toward his phone. “It’s hooked to the speakers. Maybe start playing some music, and the sleepyhead will join us?”
I placed the assembled sandwich in the skillet to begin to brown before wiping my hands on a towel and grabbing his phone. I opened his music app and looked over the selections. “Thoughts on Van Morrison?”
“‘Moondance’ is amazing.”
“Agreed.” I hit Play and let the music flow through me.
I was a pretty happy person generally, but our dance parties had started because since Addie was little, I helped her find joy in music. While I was never the girl at the party that people watched because she knew how to dance, I’d wager a bet that people watched because I let the music fill me up. Not every artist had that impact on me, but so many did. When those songs began, my eyes would close, my body would sway, and I’d be overcome with a feeling I couldn’t describe. It would bubble right through me. Pure magic.
“Dance party, Momma!” Addie came running out of the den with the dog right at her heels. Whelp, she was up. Addie ran right at Jake and wrapped her arms around his thighs.
Jake grinned as he bent to scoop her up. Addie let loose a peal of laughter. My heart clenched at the ease of the two of them together. Nope. Not happening.
“Chief is dancing too,” Addie called out as the pup spun in circles, chasing his tail.
I watched this man who drove me batty spin with my daughter, and my eyes began to fill up. To give myself a moment, I turned to the stove and flipped her grilled cheese. As my phone began to vibrate, I grabbed it without looking at who was calling.
“Hello?”
A pause, then a woman’s voice. “Hello? Is this Jake’s phone?”
Sugar cookie. I glanced down at the counter. My phone was still sitting there. Oops.
I took a breath before looking at Jake, who was obliviously dancing with Addie.
“Yes, it is. Would you like to speak to him?” Great, I was probably talking to one of his hookups.
There was a longer pause, then she spoke again with amusement lacing her voice. “No, I’d actually love to know who’s answering my son’s phone, if you’d like to share.”
