“Glad you like it,” Prim whispers.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Ma says, getting up from her seat and dabbing her mouth with her napkin. “You got a delivery.”
My brain runs through the handful of people that know I’m here: Ted, Eva, Caleb, a few others who are under non-disclosure agreements…and that’s about it. Most people are unaware of where I’m even from, thanks to the efforts I’ve made to ensure my family’s privacy.
“A delivery? From who?”
“I think her name was Allison,” Ma shouts from the other room. “Sent a bunch of flowers and a card. Now, where’d they go?”
“A woman named Allison sent me flowers?”
Ma comes back in from the other room. “Yeah, and a lot of them. They filled the sunroom, but I can’t seem to find them. Here’s the card.”
“I fed them to the cows,” Father says.
My mouth gapes open. “You fed my flowers to the cows?”
“There was a whole room full of them. It seemed silly letting them go to waste.”
Prim grabs the card from Ma’s hand, tearing it open.
“Hey,” I cry.
Prim’s eyes grow round. “It’s from Alistair Whent! Isn’t he that party guy?”
Of course she uses the words ‘party guy,’ instead of the many more acceptable adjectives that describe him, like businessman, CEO, hotel owner, pilot, or basically ANY other.
“He’s a friend.”
“He was at Saint Cloud with you that night, wasn’t he?” Prim enthuses.
“We went together to the opening—”
“The card says he wants a do-over date!”
There aren’t many people I love more in the world than my sister, but by God, I wish she had an off switch.
Father looks at the card darkly. “Back in my day, I wouldn’t have dreamed about sending yer ma flowers without first seeking her pa’s approval. You receiving those after he took you out for trouble is a bad omen.”
“Alistair didn’t get me into trouble,” I reply. “I managed to do that myself.”
“That doesn’t give him a pass,” Father insists. “Men aren’t built like they used to be, and they lack the good intentions ingrained in my generation.”
“I’m sure your generation was the last of the good men. If only I had been born into a better time.”
“Now, I’m not sayin’ there ain’t none left. I’ve done my best to raise Jake right, and I’m mighty proud of who he’s become. And Garrett here,” he hikes a thumb toward Garrett, “wouldn’t dream of getting a lady into trouble. Not a man outside of Jake that I trust more than that boy. He knows the rules, that you don’t go taking a woman out without consulting with her father and stating your intentions.”
I swallow hard and look over to Garrett, whose face has gone pale white.
Let him feel bad. After how he treated you, let that heap of praise rot in his gut.
“Is that true, Garrett?” I ask innocuously. “Do you run your‘intentions’by a girl’s Pa before making a move?”
Garrett shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
“Well?”
He clears his throat. “I try to, but it doesn’t always work out on account that some are overambitious.”
