“Secret tunnel? I don’t know. The woman has weird powers. You saw Mandy cave when I mentioned her name at the rink. No one crosses Mad Dog.”
“Mad Dog?”
“It’s the name Travis and I gave her after a freak-out she had at a parent and teacher association event at our high school. She wasn’t happy with how one of the teachers was treating students, and she stood up and had her say. It was like she came alive that night. I really don’t remember her ever being so vocal about things in our community until then. She gave a speech that had the same fervor as a televangelist. Her eyes were wild, her gestures were exaggerated. It was like she mistook her moment to speak as her time in the spotlight, because she was into it.” Do I giggle at the memory? You bet I do. “It was the night Mad Dog came out of her shell and hasn’t looked back.”
“Okay.” Keeping his eyes on her as she walks up to my car, he nods his head. “I can see it.”
“Be careful. She’ll have you volunteer for something before you know what’s happening.”
Jake laughs but keeps an eye trained on my mom. “I’m happy to donate some items if she needs them for a fundraiser.”
I’m surprised when she simply taps on the hood of the car and then keeps on going back to the house, not even pausing to ask questions. Or to ask me how the menu is coming. Or anything.
Jake swings his head back to face me. “So you’re in charge of a meal for your type-A mother. What does that look like?”
“Truffles.”
“Like chocolate truffles? Does she know it’s a meal of all sugar?”
“No, not that kind of truffles. Although I am serving some of the sweet truffles you’re thinking of for dessert.” I can feel my nerd hat coming out because this is a subject I like talking about. Food. “I’m using local savory truffles. It’s the umami I’m theming the night around. I’ve got some friends who live near here and they have a truffle farm. They wanted some promotion for it, so they agreed to help sponsor the night and donate some truffles.”
“You know, I’ve been out to eat at a few nice restaurants and I don’t think I’ve ever gone for the truffle anything.”
“Not even truffle fries?” I ask, my jaw going slack. “Come on, even the local bar serves those.”
He looks at me woefully as he shrugs. “Nope. Never tried ‘em.”
“You need to fix that, and quickly.” As I turn to meet his gaze, something shifts between us. It’s a subtle, almost imperceptible change, but I can feel it nonetheless.
I can only speak for myself, but I’m feeling a mix of curiosity and anticipation, a quiet acknowledgment of some kind of connection. There’s a quiet exchange between us, a silent conversation unfolding in the space between our gazes. It’s as if we’re testing the waters, exploring the unspoken possibilities that lie between us.
I could also be absolutely insane, but part of me is feeling a tug, deep in the very center of my core.
“Jake!”
The sound of someone calling his name makes our heads swivel in the direction of the house, where my mother is standing and waving at us. She points to Jake and holds up thehome phone, an archaic thing to have in some circles, I know, but we do still have a landline here at the Richards property.
“You’ve got a phone call, dear,” she yells out.
“I feel like we’ve been out on a date and are getting caught making out.” Just him saying the words “making out” is enough to send a wild thrill of anticipation right through me.
Gripping the steering wheel, I smile and nod. “Yeah. Right? Making out.” As soon as the words come out of my mouth, I want to shove them back in. What. A. Nerd.
“See ya later, Riley. Thanks for the ride.” He opens the door and climbs out, the car suddenly emptier without his bulk next to me.
I watch as he sidles up the front path to the door, turning to wave as he goes inside, and I try hard to ignore the patter of my traitorous heart.
Walking up the steps to my little apartment in town, the song “Independent Women” by Destiny’s Child always goes through my head. I love this place because I found it. I had a friend and realtor helping me look for places at the time, but this one I found on my own. I walked by the day that the landlord put a “for rent” sign in the front window.
The building used to be a three-story townhome but had been broken down into three separate apartments over the years. I live on the second floor, right above a couple who are a little bit…how do I put it politely? Let’s just say they’re two bricks shy of a load on a good day. The apartment above me is also occupied, but it’s my landlord’s super cool aunt, Frannie. She has owned it forever and doesn’t live here full time. Shesaves it for trips she makes to Sweetkiss Creek. Like this week. I ran into her the other day at the market, so I know she’s here.
Trudging up the steps to my place, the smell of soft florals hits my senses and I’m greeted by a huge bouquet of flowers sitting in front of my door. Roses, lilies, and tulips are piled into a giant glass vase, with fern and eucalyptus tucked in as well.
I get the door open, bending down to gather the arrangement in my arms before I go inside and kick the door closed behind me. Placing the bouquet on my kitchen table, I pluck out the card only to feel a little sick to my stomach when I read the note.
“If I have to send you more of these, I will. I’m sorry. I miss you, Riley. XO XO, Todd.” Sighing, I lean against my desk and look down at the aquarium that houses my main man, and keeper of all my secrets by default, Brad Pitt the turtle.
I hold up the card to show him. “He keeps trying, but I’m just not that into him.”
