Page 12 of One Small Spark
“I know,” I whisper back, even though I have my doubts about our privacy. Aren’t law enforcement officers required to have supersonic hearing or something?
She lifts an eyebrow, telegraphing, “Then act like it.”
I’m trying, but it’s a lot to get used to. It’s been the three of us for so long—and then August made four—it’s hard to adjust to the new dynamic. Plus, it’s awfully soon to cozy up to my mom’s new man, right? They’ve only been dating a little while.
I’ll just ignore the fact they’ve basically been in love and yearning for each other for years.
Daniel returns a minute later with a plateful of roasted red potatoes topped with a few seared sausage chunks. He sets it in front of me along with a fork and takes a seat next to Mom. His arm automatically goes around the back of her chair, and she leans into him, placing a hand on his leg.
I avert my eyes like I’m avoiding Medusa’s stare. It’s my signature move lately. Every important woman in my life has paired off and becomemushy. And then there’s me. Tough, gristly Wren.
“How was the romance book club?” Mom asks.
I take a bite of potato and automatically wish I had a slice of Callahan’s bread to go with it. My tastebuds are traitors, but they know good food.
“It was neither as exclusive nor as scandalous as I was led to believe.” I wonder if I can get them to spice things up with a little paranormal action one day. A vampire could be good. Maybe a werewolf. I bet Fran would be into that.
“I think you led yourself to those conclusions, honey.”
“They were fishy and weird whenever it came up. Obviously, I’m going to assume something racy.” Aside from their questionable Callahan-ogling, it was literally just talking about romance books.
“Are you going to stop going now that your curiosity’s been satisfied?”
“Oh, no. They’re stuck with me.” Now that I know Callahan’s involved, I’ll never drop out. Not unless he does first. I’m locked in.
“What’s next?” Mom asks. “Another historical?”
“Contemporary cowboy.” I wrinkle my nose. I’m not bothered by the cowboy. It’s the hints about how the main female character falls for the guy she doesn’t like that make me doubt the book choice. I can only suspend so much disbelief.
“We’re going to try that new ramen restaurant in town this week,” Daniel says casually. “Want to join us?”
“I like ramen!” August pipes up.
Daniel’s smile warms. “You’re welcome to come, too, pal.”
August lights up at that. Daniel’s focus swivels to me, that same kind, fatherly expression on his face.
I genuinely don’t know how I’m supposed to respond to it. My dad left when I was eight, and after a few half-hearted visits, dropped out of our lives. It’s easy for August to soak up attention from Ian and Daniel because he’s never had a man in his life. I have, and I know how it crushes your soul whenthat man decides he doesn’t love you enough to bother anymore.
Stalling, I chew another bite of surprisingly delicious potato. What is it with men and their excellent kitchen skills today?
Unfortunately, that makes me think of when Callahan mentioned skills inotherrooms, and I almost choke on my food.
“I don’t know if I can.” I’ve been meaning to try the restaurant, but I’m a third wheel often enough as it is. We’re together practically all the time at home. I don’t need to join them on their nights out, too. “I might need to read up for the next book club.”
“That’s a month away, isn’t it?” Mom says.
Busted.
“It’s not just that. I’ve also got…” I scramble for something, anything else going on in my life. I’m not involved in any other clubs or groups. I don’t have a side hustle. I don’t have a boyfriend, and all my closest friends are occupied with theirs. It’s just me and my newfound crochet addiction against the world. “Things to do.”
An exquisite excuse.
“That’s okay.” Daniel’s unfazed by my rejection. He probably has a lot of experience from trying to make perps confess their crimes. Or whatever he does. “You can join us another time.”
I make a finger gun at him but immediately ball my hand into a fist. That’s probably offensive and could possibly be seen as a threat. Arresting me might put a damper on his relationship with Mom. “Another time. I’m going to change, and then I’ll be down for movies.”
I mostly say this to August, who cheers as I leave the table to tuck my empty plate into the dishwasher and run upstairs.
