“I’m unmarried and pregnant,” she snaps. “Hardly a prude.”
“You want to get married?” It never occurred to me I should ask. “I’ll marry the hell out of you right now if you’re worried about our kids being bastards.”
“Nice, Luke.” Rolling her eyes, she bites into a jojo. Her exasperated sigh morphs into a moan, and she chews for a good seven seconds before grabbing another fried potato wedge. “You certainly know how to sweep a girl off her feet.”
“You took me by surprise is all.” The thought of marrying Hazel doesn’t freak me out like it should. “I can go get a ring, make it official.”
That earns me another eyeroll. “I have enough rings.”
“I noticed.” I nod to her hand, which is clutching the grease-covered bag. “You had a big gold one with a blue stone and another one that looked kinda pinkish that day we conceived Clover and Beatrice. Then you had some sorta pearl and an emerald that day in the boardroom, and today it’s that big-ass ruby?—”
“A red diamond.”
“That’s a thing?”
“It is.” She looks down at her hand like she’s seeing the sparkling red gemstone for the first time. “My father bought it for me when I graduated from business school.”
“Nice gift.” I bite into my corndog so I’m not tempted to snark about her father’s ill-gotten gains. Owen Spencer burned his own childhood home to hide evidence that his dad wanted the family’s land to go to the grandkids and not into Owen’s pocket.
“It is a nice gift,” Hazel insists. “He isn’t all bad, you know.”
“Most people aren’t.”
“Believe it or not, he was a really good dad.” She eats two more jojos, lost in her thoughts and greasy potatoes. “When my mom moved away, I was old enough that they gave me a choice which parent to stay with.”
“And you picked your father?”
“I did.” She takes a sip of the soda I brought her. “I was always more of a daddy’s girl. Mom grew up in an orphanage. I’m guessing that’s why she never seemed hardwired to be a mother.”
“That sounds rough.”
“It wasn’t, though.” Chewing a jojo, she gets a distant look in her eyes. “My dad was a terrific parent. He taught me to fish and trade stocks. When I started my period, he drove to the store and bought a box of every single thing on the shelves.” She laughs at the memory. “He also went to the library and checked out books like Period Power and Go With the Flow. Left them on my bathroom counter with the big bag of sanitary products.”
“That’s surprisingly sweet.” It’s also a side of Owen Spencer I never imagined. “Can’t say I pegged him as father of the year.”
“Funny you should say that.” Hazel eats another jojo. “When I was eight or nine, I wanted to buy one of those T-shirts that says World’s Greatest Father or maybe Number One Dad.”
“I always wondered about those,” I muse. “Like who decides on the world’s best dad? Is it based on barbecue skills or how fast you can change a diaper?”
“Luke—”
“I’m sorry, continue.”
Hazel swallows a mouthful of corndog. “I couldn’t find any Number One Dad shirts in Cherry Blossom Lake, so I decided to make one. I bought a plain blue T-shirt and some iron-on letters. But something went wrong.”
“You got hurt?” Concern pings through me. “Did you burn yourself?”
“No, nothing like that. I just meant the letters didn’t stick right. The shirt ended up saying Numr Ne Ad. I was mortified, but Dad loved it. He wore that thing proudly until it was nothing but threads. It became our inside joke.”
“Really?” Okay, this is kinda charming.
“I had Numr Ne Ad printed on a coffee mug I gave him for Christmas. He’d sign all my birthday cards from Numr Ne Ad.”
“That’s fucking adorable.”
She nibbles a jojo as her expression turns wistful. “We kept the joke going long after I was grown up. For his seventy-fifth birthday, I got him the watch of his dreams. A Breitling Navitimer.” Catching my blank look, she shrugs. “It’s considered the ultimate fisherman’s watch. My grandfather always dreamed of owning one but could never afford it. They’re not cheap, but I tracked one down for under ten grand.”
“That’s your idea of a bargain?” Christ on a cracker. “I’m sorry, continue.”
