Page 38 of Must Love Bees
“Does she walk? Or talk?” Nova asked. “She likes you, Charlie Grumpypants.”
The baby did seem determined to get him to wave or smile back. Young babies made him anxious. They were unpredictable and loud and breakable and terrifying. When he and Yasmina married, Nova was already walking and talking, with a sweet disposition. “She’s very...small.” Which was a stupid thing to say.
“’Cause she’s a baby, Charlie.” Halley cooed and gushed. “A beautiful little baby.”
“Was I a beautiful little baby?” Nova asked, watching her sister with Bea.
“Not when you were first born. You were all squished up and red and you screamed all the time.” Halley looked at Nova. “But then you stopped squishing and screaming and you were a very beautiful little baby.”
Nova hugged her sister tight, more like crushing her. “I’m sorry I screamed all the time.”
“It’s okay. It’s what babies do.” Halley hugged her back with just as much enthusiasm. “All babies scream.”
Charlie loved it when the girls were like this. There was a sweetness between them that set his heart at ease. He didn’t remember many times like this in his own family—hugging, as a whole, hadn’t been a thing in his home. But his girls had a chance at a different upbringing and different memories. If he had anything to say about it, they’d look forward to family gatherings versus dreading them.
“I bet even Charlie screamed when he was a baby.” Halley made a weird face. “What is that look?”
Nova’s astronaut helmet was squished down over her face, but her impish grin was still visible. “I can’t see. I can’t see. What look?”
Halley adjusted her helmet. “That one.”
“He’s happy.” Nova rose up onto her knees to see him. “His grumpy forehead line is gone. See?”
Charlie hadn’t realized he had a grumpy forehead line—he’d have to work on that. “Yep.” He was happy. It had been so long since he’d felt this way that he didn’t care where he was or who might be watching. Until the high-pitched squeal by his right ear reminded him people were watching.
The baby clapped her hands and spewed an unintelligible stream of nonsense sounds and noises that had Charlie leaning away.
“You don’t say, Bea? She likes to be part of the conversation.” Astrid sighed, shooting a surprisingly hesitant look his way. “I don’t want to interrupt your lunch but I did want to say hello. And, I have a question for you.”
A question to do with the Junior Beekeepers, no doubt. All he could imagine was a group of kids running from a swarm of angry bees. It wasn’t a pretty picture. “I haven’t made up my mind about...it.” He waved his hand, not wanting the girls to have any knowledge or input on the whole potential summer camp disaster.
“No, no. I was hoping tomorrow would be okay for me to stop by early and check on the hives?” She smiled at the baby. The baby squealed and clapped her hands. “You’ll have to stay home with your mommy, Bea.”
“She’s not yours?” he asked, relief slamming into him with the force of a wrecking ball.
“No.” She looked surprised by his question. “No baby and no significant other. I do like to borrow her from my cousin sometimes.” She pointed at the booth where three other women sat—watching them.
The fact that Astrid was single didn’t make sense. She was... She was... What? And why was he so relieved? His lungs were empty—as if he’d resurfaced from deep beneath the waves after holding his breath for too long. Tossed about and winded and very much adrift. He sipped from his water glass and plucked at his shirtfront again—hoping the thudding of his heart wasn’t obvious.
Astrid was studying him. “Is tomorrow morning convenient?”
“Yes.” The word was instantaneous. Breathe. Calm. He flexed his hands and reached for his glass, adding, “That’s fine.” Normally, he used the person’s earlobe as a focal point, to keep his anxiety at bay. It didn’t work with Astrid. He’d start with her earlobe and wind up studying her hair and her braids. Recently, he’d moved on to her forehead and every facial feature until making eye contact with her was, almost, natural. Maybe it was because Astrid’s green gaze was earnest and friendly and...appealing. There was that damn word again. Better not to look at her at all.
“And bring the dogs?” Nova pleaded.
“And some muffins?” Halley tickled the baby’s foot again.
“I’ll see what I can do.” Astrid hesitated then, but he didn’t look at her. “Well... Okay.” She waved. “Say bye, Bea.”
Halley and Nova both chimed in, “Bye, Bea.”
And then it was back to the three of them. He didn’t have to look up to know Nova and Halley were disappointed in him.
“Charlie.” Nova pushed her astronaut helmet back on her head and sat up on her knees, leaning across the table toward him. “Are you okay?”
“You did act way weirder than normal.” Halley was watching him. “Nova and I really like her. And she’s, like, the only friend-ish person we have here. Can you try to like her? I mean tryreallyhard?”
Luckily, Charlie was saved by the arrival of the waitress. Menus were passed out and the girls debated their options while his traitorous gaze sought out Astrid. She was talking with her sister and two other women, her smile and laughter free-flowing. Could he really blame his girls for wanting her to visit or to spend time with her? If he was being honest with himself, he wanted to spend more time with her, too.Thatwas the reason he didn’t want her around.
