“You could stay,” Lauren whispers to me.
I shoot her a warning look. With one word of it, Winnie would never let it go, and I couldn’t break her heart or mine that way by even entertaining it. This is Lauren’s home, not mine, and I don’t want to deal with the wrath of Ethan’s family if I moved their granddaughter out of state. Even if they never made efforts to come see her, they have footed the bill for private preschool education and, despite the divorce, she is expected back come September to start kindergarten on their tab.
Rhett leans against the counter, while he and Winnie talk like two adults about the YMCA and all its amenities. Like a pool and a “bally-ball” court.
“You picked a good one.” I nod up at the two of them.
A little tear glistens in Lauren’s eye. “He’s so excited to be a dad.”
The doorbell rings, and Rhett nearly runs over to answer it. He opens the door, picks up a package, then turns back to us.
“What’s that?” Lauren asks.
“Parenting books.” He shrugs. “We got some reading to do.”
7
“Lift with your knees,” Rhett tells Winnie while she struggles to carry the only log in her arms.
Lauren and I sit on the back deck of the cabin shielding our eyes from the glaring sun while watching Rhett and Winnie try to fill the fire pit.
Lauren and Rhett’s yard is nothing but a small, cleared space amongst rocky hills and forest of trees that have begun morphing into their summer emeralds. The breeze is warm and hopeful while beads of sweat form on my brow and the sun toasts my shoulders. The trees seem alive with constant bird and bug song. Creaking, cooing, buzzing, and tweeting.
“Come on kid,” Rhett calls over his shoulder. “I'm beating you.”
Winnie finally makes it over, drops the log inside the pit, and lets out an exasperated sigh. “Being a flower girl is hard work.”
“You’re not making the poor kid do all the work are ya?” Rhett’s dad, Jack, walks over from his yard next door with his golden retriever in tow.
“Winnie.” Lauren motions to the man. “This is Rhett’s dad, Jack and his dog, Storm.”
“Hiya Winnie. Nice to meet ya.” Jack, the red-cheeked man, hobbles over and shakes Winnie's hand. “I heard you’re on flower girl duty. That’s a very big job. And Hannah, good to see you again.”
Winnie nods. “Yeah. We have to carry wood.”
“You’ll be the strongest flower girl ever.”
“Alright kid.” Rhett claps his hands. “Let’s try picking up some sticks. That shouldn’t be as hard.”
Winnie huffs but doesn’t dare argue.
“I heard you were in town.” The voice comes from behind me and my spine instantly straightens. Goosebumps soaring across my skin.
I turn and leaning in the back doorway with a smirk on his sun-lit face, is Tanner. That mustache still sending literal lust coursing through my blood. Though I just saw him, I’m realizing I already missed him. His white T-shirt has a small horizontal rip at the rib cage and grease stains all over, his hair is unkept under his baseball hat and it knocks the wind right out of me.
“You guys want a beer?” he asks when I can’t make myself say anything.
“I'm good,” Lauren answers quickly, but her eyes shift over to me.
I stand on wobbling knees. “I’ll come help.”
He nods but I try to read his face, looking for anger or disappoint, I find neither. Instead, I only find a kind gaze as he holds the door for me. I smell the sun and the oil on him as I pass and I have to force myself to keep walking.
“You brought the flowers with you.” He points to the counter where all of Winnie and I’s bouquets sit in mason jars.
“We did,” I say stupidly as he goes to the fridge.
He grabs out two beers and a bottle opener from the drawer next to him and doesn’t say anything as he opens and hands me one. He simply leans back against the counter, arms crossedacross his broad chest with a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips under that mustache.
