“I think Bloom is an incredible woman,” I whisper to him, remembering her laughter at the way we lay in the forest, saying nothing as we gazed at the clear sky. “And she deserves all the best. But, Arlo?”
“Hm?” A lazy smile drifts up his face.
“Stop holding onto guilt for what didn’t work out. She’s okay.” Without waiting for a reply, I spin around and head through the house, following the scent of food and the sounds of laughter.
“There she is!” Bloom smiles, looking as though she didn’t drink Paris under the table last night. Which she did. This one has an iron liver.
“Morning.” I slip into the booth beside Bloom. Paris and Kenzie sit across from us, Kenzie with her nose in the newspaper and Paris clicking away on her phone.
“Well, look at you.” Kenzie drops the paper just as Saffron places an omelet with bacon on the table. My stomach grumbles in appreciation. “Tell me, did you run across Arlo?” she asks with a knowing grin.
“And the catio?” I snap off a piece of bacon. “Oh, I did.”
“My boy hates pets,” Saffron states as she makes up another plate, for Autumn, I’m assuming. “Ever since his sister came across that nest of skunks, he doesn’t like their fluffy little selves.”
So much for Autumn thinking she got one over on her mom. Speak of the devil, Autumn shuffles in, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, her hair a mess as mascara streaks down one side of her face. She grabs the plate like it’s precious and saunters right back out, grumbling about morning people.
“Bloom.” I bump her shoulder. “I didn’t know you have bees.”
I almost feel bad for calling her a Disney Princess in the beginning, especially with the way she reacted to Cooper, but her eyes light up and her smile is radiant.
“Oh no.” Kenzie folds up her paper and gets to her feet. “You’ve done it.” Her heels clack on her way to Saffron, who she lightly kisses on the cheek with a whispered, “Thank you.” She turns to us, and says, “I have to get to work. Lovely evening, ladies.”
“I have to get my sanity splitter.” Paris slides out of the booth as well, giving Bloom a cautious look. Once again, she thanks Saffron before taking off down the hall.
“I have to go collect wood.” Saffron backs out of the kitchen slowly.
“Okay, that was weird.” Grabbing another slice of bacon, I slide out and walk over to the coffee pot.
“It’s because of my love for bees,” Bloom says with resignation.
Glancing over at her with bacon hanging out of my mouth, I’m left with the horrible feeling that if I ask about her bees, she’s going to go into a monolog, but the sadness that spills across her face stabs me in the heart.
I might regret this. Then again, this could be that moment where Bloom and I take our friendship into bestie territory. I don’t hate bees. I mean, I love honey, and I love to eat honey, but I hate feeling the sting of one of those little guys. Not to mention it’s November. Don’t bees hibernate?
“So they don’t like honey?” I wink at her. “I think bees are the foundation of human survival.”
I must have said the right thing, because her eyes light up and they mist a little. “Do you want to meet my bees?”
“They are awake? At this hour?” I meant the season.
“Silly bird, of course they are awake, it’s nearly ten!” Bloom bounces in her chair before she pauses, her eyes and face falling for a moment. “Are you just humoring me?”
I sigh, not really wanting to lie to her, so I don’t, but I also soften the blow. “I admit I don’t know that much about bees aside from how important they are to the world, and plants, flowers, and fruit.”
“Oh, they are!” Her smile shines brighter than the sun once more.
“All right.” My interest is piqued, and maybe a kids’ book plot runs through my head. “I’ll bite, tell me more.”
“You are interested!” She shakes her head before chugging her orange juice. With an orange mustache, she says, “Well, for starters, this town shouldn’t have the crops we do, and I attribute that to my bees!”
“You know, I wondered about the fruit trees.”
“Oh, I planted those!” This time she bounces right out of her seat, becoming animated. “I’d just graduated high school, and the town was struggling to get anything imported here because we are so far out.”
With a half-smile, I finish, “And you decided to do something about it.”
“I did, and look, there are trees all over the town.” With a wistful sigh, she continues, “In a travel magazine about Greece, I saw a place where you can just pick the fruit off the trees as you walk down the street. It spoke to me. I wanted that for our little town, but I knew it wouldn’t be easy.”
