Oleander’s father walked into the room and held his hand out. He had a kind smile and a gentle handshake. There was no posturing here to see how firm either of our grips was. There was no need for that. “You must be Forest. Welcome to our home.”
“Thank you for having me. You’re lucky to live out here. I wouldn’t have thought a place like this existed.”
“It didn’t until my wife put her touch on it. Everywhere she goes, magic follows.”
When I glanced at Colleen, her eyes were on her husband, and her face was soft with affection for him. I couldn’t help turning to seek out Sheldon. He wasn’t far behind me, leaning against a doorway, watching us. There was the slightest smile on his lips. For all the times I’d seen Sheldon show little to no emotion, it was nice to find him relaxed and happy. I couldn’t fight the overwhelming urge to make him that happy one day.
A hum had me turning back to Colleen and Davis. They were both cheerfully looking our way.
“We’ve waited a long time for Shel to bring someone home,” Colleen said. “He wouldn’t have brought you here if you didn’t mean a lot to him.”
“The feeling is mutual,” I said. Sheldon had worked his way under my skin a while ago. It was me who held back, my uncertainty about being with a man, especially one who worked for a mafia boss.
“Come, let’s sit down to eat.”
Davis led the way to a dining room off the kitchen. This was an older home without an open floor plan. It worked though. Nothing felt out of date or like it should be remodeled. It was perfect as it was.
The table sat six, and there was a tall vase in the center with fresh-cut sunflowers in it. Around the base of the vase was a ring of leaves that had been carefully arranged to form a small wreath.
“Aren’t the sunflowers gorgeous?” Colleen asked as she set a side dish on the table. “Davis grows them. He has a green thumb. The man can keep anything alive. And because we’re retired, we have a lot of time on our hands, hence the beautiful setup.”
I glanced at Davis, who brought another dish into the dining room. He grinned, proud of what he’d made.
Then it hit me, standing in the dining room, watching Colleen and Davis set the table as they stole glances at oneanother, this was what parents should be like. Hartley and I didn’t have that. Our dad passed away from cancer when we were young, and our mom died of an overdose two years after. Pop did the best he could for us. We didn’t have meals like this though.
I wouldn’t trade the time we had with him for the world. What I still missed was what could have been if our mom had chosen a different road. If our dad hadn’t gotten sick.
A touch to my lower back startled me from my thoughts.
Sheldon was there, close enough that his arm went around my waist. “Hey, what happened?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head. A tear had slipped down my cheek. Colleen and Davis were no longer in the room. “I loved Pop, but we never had anything like this.” I gestured in front of us.
“It’s something, isn’t it? Now you know why I would leave my house and go to Ollie’s to sleep. There is love and warmth with them. It draws you in and makes you belong. Like you, I didn’t have this at home. We can have it now though. Colleen likes to remind me the past belongs in the past. There’s no need to bring it into the present or future.” Dwelling on what could have or should have been wouldn’t do any good.
“She’s smart.”
“She is.”
They came back a moment later with the rest of the dinner.
“Okay in here?” she asked.
“Yes, sorry about that.” I didn’t mean to get emotional. That one snuck up on me.
“Never apologize for what you feel. Are you hungry? We don’t have to eat yet. I can put this in the oven to stay warm.”
“I am.” I didn’t want her to go to any trouble, but I was starving.
On the table were various foods to choose from. There was a white bean and quinoa dish, Caesar salad, what looked like fresh bread, filets of fish, a tomato mozzarella dish with a balsamic dressing drizzled on it, and grilled vegetables. It wasn’t over the top, but it didn’t need to be.
I thought Colleen might ask me about my past, my job, or really anything, but she kept the conversation on stories of Sheldon and Oleander while we ate. I loved hearing them. It took the pressure off me having to talk about myself. Sheldon didn’t seem to mind the stories. I was content to sit back and listen. Every one of them was happy. I had a feeling Colleen did a lot of that for him, made sure to highlight the positive. Sheldon dealt with enough horrible times when he was younger and saw enough terrible shit as an adult. He also inflicted it; however, I wasn’t going there.
After we finished eating and taking the dishes to the kitchen—Colleen wouldn’t hear of us helping clean up—we went outside into their backyard, which I swore was right out of a book. Fairy lights hung on the trees. There was a deck with stairs that led to a stone path, which brought us to an area with a firepit and seating around it. I was wrapped in another world, especially when Davis lit the fire and we sat around it.
Colleen brought out the ingredients for s’mores. We each got a skewer for our marshmallows. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had such an amazing night.
When it was time to put the toasted marshmallow on the graham cracker with the chocolate, I was a little kid again, but we weren’t making them in the microwave. The moan I let out at the taste made me blush. At least the sun was setting, and my pink cheeks weren’t as obvious. Of course, Sheldon caught the sound and winked at me.
