Page 66 of The Lonely Hearts Guide

“Sometimes,” she said, squeezing his shoulder, “we have to face our fears to ensure the health and happiness of our children. I believe in you, Elliot. I believe you can do this. And if you’re ever in a bind, I’m right next door. You can just call out for me and I’ll be right over.”

“I don’t believe you would hear me, but I can certainly try.”

Ms. Twylah beamed at him. “Sweetie, you have a tendency to leave all your windows open.”

Elliot nodded. “I enjoy the sea-scented air..”

“What I mean is, I can hear practically everything that happens in your home, so I’d be able to hear if you shouted.”

Elliot tilted his head. Because if she could hear their conversations, what else had she heard? “You don’t eavesdrop, do you? Because that’s not very polite.”

She rolled her eyes, grabbed a cookie from the platter, and chomped down. With purple jam coating her teeth, she mumbled, “I don’t have a choice,” sending flakes of her cookie flying from her mouth. Swallowing, she dabbed a napkin to the corners of her lips. “I wish Alexander Sr. and I had as active a love life as you boys do.”

Elliot’s eyes bulged. “Good Lord.”

She nodded. “Yep. I’ve heard you scream that one a few times, but ‘Oh, God-Oh, God-Oh, God’ seems to be your go-to, though.”

Elliot took a step back and pointed his finger at her accusingly. “Starting tonight, we will be shutting our windows, and you and I will never speak of this again. Is this understood?” His cheeks were warmer than ever.

She lifted her hands in surrender. “If you insist.” Turning, she focused on the cooling cookies, but as Elliot walked into the back room, she sang out, “Oh, God-Oh, God-Oh, God.”

As embarrassing as the situation was, he enjoyed having a mother figure of sorts who he didn’t need to mince words with, and who didn’t demand he conducted himself like a traditional househusband. He was free to be himself, and he felt like he was finally figuring out who he was.

He poked his head out through the door, making eye contact as he said, “If you attempt to humiliate me again, I’ll shout it twice as loudly tonight.” He made it three steps into the back room before pausing, worried. Poking his head through the doorway again, he spotted Ms. Twylah still staring toward him as if his reappearance was inevitable. “I’m only teasing. I wasn’t actually threatening you.”

“Goodness gracious.” She placed her hand on her cheek, feigning surprise, but her palms were coated in powdered sugar, so it ruined her makeup. She groaned, but didn’t let it stop her, adding, “Well, you really had me fooled.”

She wasn’t teasing him. She was saying it to lift his spirits. He wondered for a moment if this was what parenthood entailed. If it wasn’t just untidy homes and a constant whirlwind of mess and chaos. Because the look she was giving him felt parental, and he knew if his daughter ever made a tit of herself the way Elliot just had, he’d do the same. He’d put on his brightest smile if it meant making sure she never felt like a fool, no matter how foolish she had been.

“I’m rather fond of you, Ms. Twylah,” he admitted.

She winked at him. “And I’m rather fond of you, Elliot.” She pointed into the back room. “Now go on, sugar. Go bake us something splendid to sell.”

As he rolled dough for a pie crust—one of the first things Ms. Twylah taught him when he started working for her—Elliot let the woman’s words settle in his soul. He memorized the memory of her expression. He reminded himself that a parent pushes past their fear to ensure the safety of their child.

Later that night, Alexander arrived to walk Elliot home from his shift at the bakery. Though there were no automobiles on Sugarplum Island, Alexander purchased a small golf cart at the insistence of Mayor Beau Rivera. They’d been in contact several times since the young mayor made it home. But Elliot hadn’t heard from Mrs. Peppercorn in ages, but that was to be expected. She had her own surrogate son in Periwinkle Price. His needs needed to come first. They still chatted on the phone two times a week, but it wasn’t the same. Thankfully, Alexander insisted they return to Genevieve once Honey was born. They would need to introduce her to the woman she was named after.

As the golf cart carried them home, Elliot snuggled against Alexander’s side. “Have you heard back from the other automaton homes yet? About Honey’s birth.”

Alexander sighed. A truly tragic sound that hit Elliot like a physical blow. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m still waiting to hear from two more of the homes, but no one seems to know anything.” He reached down and squeezed Elliot’s knee. “I swear, we’re going to figure it out. I’ve got my best men on it.”

Elliot nodded the same way he did when he had the country’s most prominent engineers visit Sugarplum Island. Alexander was on an indefinite leave from his company, and Elliot had felt nothing but guilt for days about it. Then the ferryboat arrived, bringing with it the best of the best. After days of poking and prodding and searching Elliot’s source code, none of the men could figure out how he was meant to deliver the child.

They were running out of time, and Elliot knew he would need to act.

“We need to return to Louisiana,” Elliot whispered, placing his hand on top of Alexander’s.

Alexander stopped the golf cart in the center of the small road leading through town. “You can’t be serious. Elliot, you’re in hiding. If they find you—”

“They will power me down and incinerate me. I’m aware.” He released his hold on Alexander’s hand and stroked his stomach. “If we do nothing, I don’t know what will happen to her. It could harm her. She could be smooshed by my bones as she grows. We have to do something.”

Alexander swallowed, but Elliot didn’t think he’d been able to swallow down his apprehension. “Let’s wait until we hear back from the other two homes, and if we still don’t have an answer, I’ll hire a helicopter to get us there.” He leaned closer, kissing Elliot gently, cupping his cheek when they broke away. Their foreheads touched, and butterflies fluttered in his stomach. “I’ll hire a team of men to go with us.”

Elliot arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

“For safety.” He stroked Elliot’s belly. “No one gets to take you from me. No one gets to touch you. I won’t allow it.”

Elliot’s smile widened, and the warm and fuzzy feelings the butterflies in his tummy provided seemed to ease a bit of his worry. He kissed Alexander again, longer that time. When the kiss was through, Alexander’s hand softly caressed Elliot’s belly, and Elliot placed his hand on top, melding them together.

---