“Good morning, Mr. Mayor!” our regulars chorused back as they filed in for savory cinnamon lattes, unicorn sundae floats, and to browse our excellent selection of books.
“I shall do my best to wield my kingly powers for the good of all my subjects!” Frankie boomed back in his usual way, his light green eyes crinkling up as he grinned as me.
Being the Mayor was sort of asidehobby to surfing, and Frankie went out early most mornings, his hair light with blonde streaks, then came back and worked with me, tanned face grinning as his quick, clever fingers swirled the perfect shapes into the lattes. Hearts, flowers, leaves, waves, suns.
I prepped the cash register for the day as my gregarious husband chatted up our regulars.
I nodded and smiled. The Mayor’s wife had to befriend everyone, easy for Frankie, harder for someone shy like me.
But luckily for me I was usually able to ride along serenely in Frankie’s chaotic, good-natured wake, letting him take the lead, while I played the support role.
“I’m a king all right,” Frankie said a few minutes later, as he came up behind me and gave my ass a sneaky squeeze. “King of the wife guys.”
Even after ten years together, he still could make me blush with his big romantic gestures or his passion. He lovedbig, and he didn’t care who knew it. Iadoredthat about him.
“Mrs. Greenberg mightsee,” I hissed, but couldn’t suppress the blush that rose to my cheeks.
He nuzzled my throat, putting an arm around my stomach and pulling me closer.
“We’re heading into the busy tourist season. I’m excited we’ll have Christabelle to help now.”
Oh, right.Christabelle.
Suddenly there was a knot of anxiety in my belly, and I paused in the motion of handing our ancient parrot Athena a cracker.
She had out-lived several of my elderly relatives, and now lived in stately dignity next to a window where she could see all the goings-on.
“FOUL AND FOULER,” she squawked disapprovingly, fluttering her colorful feathers, and I hurried to hand her a cracker, which she took with cold disdain.
“Frankie,” I said, feeling awful and ridiculous. “It’s ok, just—there wasn’t anythingseriousbetween you and Christabelle, was there? I mean, you said you went out, but does that mean like—you were serious?”
My spine felt shrunken to a few inches high as he seemed to stiffen beside me.
“It’s o-ok if you were!” I rushed on. “I just—want to make sure that there’s nothing we should—talk about.”
But Frankie twirled me around and when I looked up at him, there was a big, open smile on his face.
“Jillian, you know me! I dated alotof women in college. Before I met you. Have I ever given you reason to doubt me?”
“No, of course not,” I said, rushing to smooth over the moment, move on from it. “Never mind. It was silly!”
The bell over the door suddenly tinkled and Christabelle walked in.
Frankie didn’t rush over to her, just waved and began to list out her duties.
So it must be all aboveboard, right? He only thought of her as a friend.
But she smelled like buttercups and sunshine and Frankie was already talking about how we made the best doughnuts for miles around, while I was still stuck in this insecurity loop. And Frankie didn’t even seem to notice.
I took a deep breath and forced myself to smile at Christabelle, who was adjusting a lacey garter strap with a long pink fingernail.
She was just so. . .beautiful.
But I trusted my husband. He had never given me any reason to doubt him. Not in ten years together. So I swallowed my objections and handed her an official Perk Up & Read apron.
“FLEAS AND FLEABITTEN,” Athena the parrot croaked from behind me.
“Hush,” I said sternly.
