Trevor smiles, that smile that’s just for me, and I pull him tightly against me for a fierce hug. He smells like my body wash and shampoo, something that makes the caveman inside me burst with pride. Maybe a little want too.
“Two lunch specials,” Joey calls out behind us. I turn around in time to see Joey hanging out the truck window, an absolutelydelighted grin on his face. “Felt bad interrupting but don’t want it to get cold.”
I hastily grab the tray loaded with the food and guide us over to one of the picnic tables at the end of the row. A few years ago, we had an open-air building built for events, it’s just a roof with a couple of hefty support beams, but it’s worth it on warmer days like today. Under the shade it’s not too bad, especially when the breeze blows, and Trevor’s hair gets tossed about.
“Ready for some of the best food you’ve ever had?” I ask with a smirk.
Trevor looks skeptical but squares his shoulders. “Absolutely. Hit me.”
“Alright.” I push the tray between us and start pointing out the items. “Barbecue pork sliders, fried plantains, glazed wings with our specialty teriyaki-blueberry sauce, and the best pumpkin cheesecake bites you’ll ever eat.”
“Any particular order, or?” Trevor stares down at the food with wide eyes.
“Pick your poison.”
He starts with the sliders, so I start with the wings. I watch him as I eat, eager to see his reactions, to know his thoughts to something that’s a part of me. Part of my life. On the very first bite his eyes slide closed in bliss, and he licks his lips clean once he finishes the entire slider.
“That’s fucking good,” Trevor says.
I point at one of the chicken wings. “Try a wing.”
Trevor doesn’t need to be told twice. He dives into the food with all the relish of a starved man. My chest puffs out in pride when the food is so good that he can’t even carry on a conversation. Feeding people, bringing them happiness, that’s really the best part of my job. Yeah, I’m a farmer at heart, because I love the land, but giving people an unforgettable memory through food and nature, that's also my joy.
Just as we’re finishing up, a familiar flash of red hair comes into view. My eyes flick over to the truck to find Joey dipping out of my sight, but not before I catch the embarrassed look on his face. He definitely tattled.
“Trevor!” Mama shouts once she’s close enough to rattle our bones.
Trevor’s panicked gaze meets mine. “She’s right behind me?”
“Yep,” I whisper.
“No time like now I guess.” Trevor wipes his hands on a napkin, then carefully stands from the table just before he’s enveloped in my mother’s arms.
Trevor stands awkwardly for a moment, then slowly returns the hug. His head rests sweetly on top of hers like he’s savoring the brief motherly affection. Mama pulls away to squeeze his face in her hands, intently staring him down.
“Don’t go so long without a visit again,” she demands quietly, tone brooking no arguments.
“I’m not planning to leave again.”
Mama gasps and dips her head around him to look at me. “Really?”
I nod as I try in vain to hold back a grin. “He’s here to stay.”
Mama’s entire face softens. Her eyes even go a little misty. “Love really is such a wonderful thing. You make my boy so happy. You’ll have to come over to the house sometime so we can garden and gossip.”
“Garden and gossip?” Trevor repeats, voice tremulous.
“Yes, Trevor. You’ve got so much to learn about Clay Springs now that you’re one of us. Serious information sessions. We will need multiple visits.” Mama kisses him on the cheek, then turns her head to regard me. “Next week, dinner, all three of us.”
Then she’s gone again, back to the office, and I can only grin as Trevor slowly turns to aim his gaze at me.
“She’s going to make me call her ‘Mom’ soon, isn’t she?”
I bite my lip and nod. “Definitely. Got a problem with that?”
Trevor runs shaky fingers through his hair. My heart does a deep dive and flips at the sight of him so overwhelmed. I stand before my brain has even processed the movement. Tugging Trevor into my arms, I cup the back of his head in my palm. He leans against me, giving me all his weight.
“What do you need?” I ask quietly.
