Page 51 of Coming Up Roses

Cash

“Don’t forgetto stop and pick up a bag—”

“Of ice. I know, Mom. I’m almost to the store.” Love my mom, but damn. Every Family Dinner Night, it's the same routine.

“Oh, good. You know how I worry. Okay, sweetie, see you soon.”

“Hey, Mom!” I call out, hoping I catch her before she disconnects the call.

“Yeah?”

“Will Preston and Lucas be there tonight?” I’m feeling like ice cream, and if the twins will be there, I’ll need to pick up some magic shell topping as well.

“As far as I know.”

“Great, thanks, Mom. See y’all in a few.” I hang up and toss the phone into the cup holder.

Even though I only need to hit the ice cream topping aisle, I find myself strolling through Piggly Wiggly, just praying for a certain redhead to crash into me again. It’s been almost two weeks since I left the note on her porch, and aside from a very to-the-point Thank you text and our stilted passing at Simon’s, I haven’t heard a peep from her and it’s killing me.

Unfortunately, luck’s not on my side today. Grabbing the shell topping from the shelf, I toss some sprinkles into my basket for good measure before making my way to the checkout area.

I’m waiting in line as the cashier bags up the order from the woman in front of me, listening as the she chats on her phone all the while. I’m not even trying to listen, but she’s talking so loudly I don’t really have a choice.

“Ma’am,” I say, inserting myself into her conversation. “I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but I heard you mention you were lookin’ for a new buffet?”

She tells the person on the phone to hold on before turning to face me. She has this pinched lemon look to her, but I keep on. “I only ask because I have a custom carpentry business—Carson’s Custom. I’d love to give you a card. You can visit my website and give me a call if you like what you see.”

“Well, I suppose that would be okay, young man. Your name?” she asks, looking down her beak-like nose at me.

“Cash Carson. Nice to meet you, Mrs. . . .?” I fish out a business card while I wait.

“Mills, Kathy Mills.” She takes the card I offer but doesn’t shake my hand. Okay, then.

She turns back to the cashier and snatches her receipt with a rushed Thank you before returning to her call. “Sorry, Phil, this young man . . .” the automatic doors close behind her, preventing me from hearing the rest of her sentence.

“Okay, sir, your total comes to five dollars and—”

“Oh, hey! I need to add a bag of ice, please,” I say, cutting her off. I’m on a daggum roll interrupting people today.

“Yes sir, that brings your total to seven dollars and fifty-five cents. Cash or card?”

After I finish checking out, I grab my bag of ice and head on to Mom’s house. I’m sure that after walking the aisles like some hopeful, love-struck teenaged idiot hoping to run into the girl he likes, everyone’s well past waiting on me.

* * *

As predicted,everyone’s sitting around the table waiting on me when I walk in.

“Sorry to keep y’all—had to grab a few things from the store,” I say, taking my seat in between the twins.

“Sumfin good for us, Uncle Cash?” Preston asks.

“Yeah, is it?” Lucas echoes.

“Might be. Now, settle down.” I ruffle their already messy hair. “You boys need haircuts. Y’all are lookin’ like ragamuffins."

“I’ve been telling Jake to take them to the barber for weeks, Cash. But, does he listen?” Paige says, her exasperation backed by an eye roll and a huff.

“Gotcha. Why don’t you just take them to the salon in town?” I ask her.

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