“So what’s she like?” Claire leans over and directs her question at Heath. He furrows his brow, obviously not having expected her to call his bluff, but my sister-in-law speaks up.
“Her name is Cecelia. She’s a cute little blonde who teaches at our Catholic elementary school. In fact, Rowan’s probably seen her in Mass before. She wears a white mantilla and usually sits in the second pew on the left,” Naomi explains as she wipes purple icing offthe baby’s chin.
“Yeah, I know exactly who she is,” I remark with a short laugh.
I barely catch Claire’s eye roll, but I perk up at the sight of it. At least I can always count on her face giving away what she isn’t willing to admit out loud.
“Mais ouai,ça c’est jolie,” my mom agrees, watching Claire’s reaction almost as closely as I am. “Maggie’s mentioned her before, too. I think they’re in the same Bible study group together … or maybe she’s kin to her in-laws.”
“Wow, she sounds perfect for you, Rowan,” Claire says after a while, her smile obviously fake.
I smirk at her. “She does sound nice, but I’m not sure she’sperfectfor me.”
“What makes you say that?” Naomi asks.
“Eh, I think I’m into brunettes these days,” I muse, keeping my gaze locked onto Claire as her cheeks flush again.
I don’t even bother explaining that I already know Cecelia isn’t the one for me after Marigold insisted on setting us up over a year ago. Because it doesn’t matter. I’m not interested in going out with anyone other than the woman in front of me.
“Besides, I’m not looking to start a relationship out here while I’m working in Camellia half of the time,” I add after my mom’s reproachful huff.
“Funny, that commute didn’t seem to bother you when you went out with Landry’s sister,” Heath points out, and I elbow him gently in the side.
“Maybe he does have a thing for brunettes,” Naomi says, smiling in Claire’s direction. “Or tattoos.”
Claire stops mid-bite and tosses her head back to laugh, and the sound of it warms my insides. “No, trust me. Your boy is still on the hunt for perfection,” she says as her laughter dies down. “All I ever hear about is how badly he wants to find hissoulmate.”
The corners of my mouth droop at the way she says the word, as if she’s invoking one of our inside jokes, only to make me the butt of it.
“I’m not looking for perfection, so long as she gives a shit aboutmy feelings,” I mumble as I turn and dump the rest of my king cake in the trash, just as my dad walks into the kitchen.
“Athanasius Rowan,” my mom scolds me. “Language!” But it’s the disappointment in my father’s features that brings me the most shame.
“Sorry, everyone,” I apologize on a sigh before turning to Claire. “It’s been a long week. We’d better get on the road. Ready,bestie?”
She has the nerve to look remorseful as she sets down her half-eaten slice. “Yeah, we should get going. Thanks for breakfast and the king cake, and for the tour. I had a lot of fun today, and it was great to see all of you again.”
I’m not surprised when my parents take turns pulling her in for a hug, but the sight of Claire stooping down to embrace my brother’s kids is another one I’ll be committing to memory. My chest tightens as she reminds Gertie how to care for their new lambs and promises to return soon for a shearing lesson. And I nearly growl in frustration when she offers to swap phone numbers with Naomi so they can “text her anytime” with their livestock show questions.
To think, I once worried my family might judge Claire for being divorced. But now that she’s here, I should probably be more concerned about them adopting her and forgetting all about me.
My dad steps up to envelop me in a hug, and I welcome the distraction.
“Hey, I see you, son. Don’t give up. Remember, love is patient,” he says over my shoulder, and my breath catches in my throat.
I nod and force a sad smile for him when I pull away, and he slaps me heartily on the back, making me regret not asking for his advice sooner. My mother’s embrace includes a warning about what will happen if I show up for Easter dinner without Claire or allow Daisy and Landry to starve out there in Camellia, as well as a kiss on the cheek and a reminder of how much she loves me.
Claire lets me lead her out to my truck and doesn’t protest when I get the door for her this time.
“Thanks again for coming along today and being so willing tohelp Giles and Gertie,” I say quietly once I reach the end of the driveway. “I’m sorry about my reaction and for making that last part so awkward. But my parents really meant it when they said they enjoyed having you over, and I …” I pause to swallow hard, channeling that perseverance my dad alluded to, “I really enjoyed having you here with me.”
Her eyes are watery by the time I work up the courage to glance her way.
“I’m the one who should be thanking you. And I’m sorry, too.”
“For what?”
“It seemed like they’d gotten the wrong idea about us, so I thought I’d save you the trouble by correcting your mom’s assumptions, that way you wouldn’t have to worry about offending me when you set them straight. But I made things worse for you instead,” she explains, her voice thick, and the rest of my anger melts away.
