“Are you doing that thing where your mouth moves and you don’t talk?” Levi laughs over the phone again, and I finally find my voice.
“Do you know what this means?” I flop back against the sofa, finally relaxing the death grip I have on my phone. “Ouija Pinterest worked. Holy shit.”
“Ouija Pinterest?”
I don’t expect him to understand. Heck, most days I barely understand the things I come up with.
“You know what? I’ll explain it later. But this is very welcome news.”
“He’s totally your type, Dee. That’s why I called you.”
“You’re not my best friend for nothing.”
“I’m your best friend because we know too much about each other.”
He has a point.
“True, but also because I love you like a brother.”
A brother I kissed once, and after we both stepped away and acknowledged there wasn’t a spark, we bonded over horses, hot men, and my baking creations.
I turn my head towards the kitchen when my dad starts singing ‘That’s amore’ before biting into his sandwich. “My dad is in love with a giant tomato, Levi. It’s been a day.”
“Aww, your dad is awesome. Go try the tomato. I should get back to practice anyway. But I’ll let you know more when I can.”
“Thanks, Levi. I’ll see you later for Scrabble?
“You bet!”
After we say our goodbyes, I join my dad in the kitchen to see why he’s singing to a sandwich.
He dances across the kitchen in the way only dads can. It’s lame but amusing with his sandwich, and honestly, if anyone needs to find a partner, it’s him. He’s singing and dancing with a sandwich for god sakes. I love him, but there are limits.
“Dad…”
“Try it, son. I promise it’s so good. Like sex but edible.”
“Dad.”I raise an eyebrow in warning. We can only compare sweets to sex in this house. He slices off a piece of the fleshy tomato and sprinkles a tiny amount of salt on it, motioning for me to try it.
I prefer my tomatoes accompanied by bacon, but I try it for him anyway.
“Wow,” I say as I chew. “This is great, Dad. Is it one of Jackson’s?”
Jackson is a former steer wrestler who owns a hydroponic greenhouse in town. He’s mostly known for his strawberries, but he’s been branching out to other things.
“It is.” Dad beams. “It’s called a sweet William. After me.”
My dad blushes a little, and it’s sweet that he’s thrilled he has a tomato named after him.
“I’ll leave you to your tomato then. I’m heading into the coffee shop. There’s a new recipe I want to try.”
“Make sure you let me taste test.”
“I will.”
After grabbing my keys and stowing my phone and tablet in my bag, I skip down the porch steps, whistling the wedding march. I didn’t get to where I am today by sitting on my ass and waiting for things to happen.
No. Diamond Ward pursues and gets what he wants.
