Page 20 of Honey Be Mine
He turned to them. “I do make a mean grilled cheese.”
“That sounds good.” Astrid climbed the stairs to the wide wraparound porch and the screen door leading into the kitchen.
Inside, Shelby and Bea were playing with blocks on the kitchen floor. When Rosemary walked in, Bea pushed herself up and trotted forward with outstretched arms. It delighted her that, even after so few days, Bea had decided to love Rosemary.
“Hey, little bee.” Rosemary picked up the toddler. “How are you?”
“Bla ma ma si.” Bea nodded as if she’d said something of the utmost importance.
“You don’t say?” Rosemary nodded back. “You’ve been busy.”
“Da da ma pa wee.” This time the toddler smiled and clapped her hands.
“I wish I knew what you were saying so I could be that excited.” Rosemary carried Bea across the kitchen, pulled a pitcher of lemonade from the fridge, and poured Astrid a tall glass. “Have a seat, sis, please.” She carried the glass to the table and set it before Astrid, and since Bea was now reaching for Astrid, handed off Bea as well. “I know you’reonlypregnant, but you should rest now and then.”
“You have no idea how right she is.” Shelby pushed off the kitchen floor. “My pregnancy was a piece of cake. I ate whatever I wanted and never got sick—which is probably why I gained thirty pounds.” She shrugged and went on, “Butif I could go back, I’d nap more. Like, whenever I had a chance. I don’t think I’ve slept, really slept, since Bea was born.”
Astrid looked horrified.
“Unless I left Bea with my mom or dad,” Shelby was quick to add. “Dad has a way with babies. Maybe it’s his soothing voice? Bea never cried with him.”
“It’s true.” Roman started cutting slices from a fresh loaf of crusty bread. “My résumé should include being good with babies. I make amazing pancakes and grilled cheese. And I know a thing or two about gardening.” He glanced out the kitchen window.
“She wasn’t interested in your input on the garden, huh?” Shelby asked.
He shook his head.
“She takes a while to warm up to people,” Rosemary offered. “And she’s...very territorial, too. The kitchen is Camellia’s domain. The gardens—all of them—are Mags’s.”
“She might be a teensy-weensy bit set in her ways.” Astrid sat back, smiling at Bea. “But we love her, don’t we, Bea? We love our Mimisomuch.”
“Mimi.” Bea clapped her hands and turned, searching the room.
“She’ll be along in a minute, love.” Shelby smiled. “She needed a break from Grampa.”
“What did I do?” Roman looked genuinely perplexed as he dropped a pat of butter into the skillet he was heating over the gas stovetop.
Shelby looked at Astrid, who shrugged, before they both looked at her.
“You’re here.” Rosemary paused, thinking before she went on, “She’s only just got Shelby and Bea in her life. I’m sure, deep down, she feels threatened. Maybe scared you’ll whisk them away.”
Roman expression grew thoughtful. “I suppose I should set the record straight.” He nodded, his mind made up. “Now, who wants one of my world-famous grilled cheese sandwiches?”
Rosemary wasn’t sure whether to admire the man’s confidence or be scared for him. Mags could be a fearsome opponent. Not that they were opponents. She was certain both he and Mags wanted Shelby and Bea to be happy and loved—putting them on the same team. They just needed to realize that.
By the time they were munching on their delicious grilled cheese sandwiches, Rosemary had a fully formed story. Her little bee book could teach Bea about bees and facing one’s fears. Bees didn’t let bad weather or drought or fire scare them away from taking care of their hive. Families were the same. Thats why, for Shelby and Bea, Mags and Romanwouldwork through this.
If she was going to put that out there, she should probably do it, too. Face her fears and stop letting other people have control over her emotions. Like James Voigt making her feel like an idiot. Or panicking every time she saw Libby. Enough was enough. She’d talk to Libby, see that her dread was unfounded, and consider Everett’s job offer. He needed help, and after all the times he’d been there for her, it was her turn. She had a plan. Now all she had to do was—do it.
“LUNCHWASGOOD,Mom, thank you.” Everett dropped a kiss on his mother’s cheek.
“Of course.” She smiled up at him. “I know how you like chicken spaghetti. And you know how I like it when you stop by.” She patted his cheek. “Now, you take this out to your dad while I clean up.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He took two fresh glasses of iced tea and headed out the front door and onto his parents’ front porch. “Here.” He handed one tea to his father. “From Mom.” He turned, watching his grandmother walk across the front yard with her goat kids trailing after her. “She’s something else.” He took a sip of his iced tea.
“You can say that again.” His father leaned against the porch railing. “Any word on the whole paintball fiasco?”
“Fiasco. That’s a good word for it.” He shook his head. “Social media. I don’t speak high tech, but there are a couple of ways to create an anonymous account on this TikTok platform, so...” He shrugged. “There’s no way to track down who’s posting.”
