“No, that’s exactly what we need, really. I’ll call you when we’re twenty minutes out.”
“Perfect.” I pulled the phone from my ear, ready to end the call when I heard Adrian still speak.
“Oh, and Shelley?”
I put the phone back to my ear and added an unsure “Yes?”
“Thanks. I’m not used to counting on others.”
“No problem. Glad I can be here.”
I ended the call and stuck the device in my pocket.
“So.” Charlotte’s voice sounded loud and excited. “Details, please.”
I rolled my eyes, contemplating pointing out how she was a younger carbon copy of Mamie, but I lacked the energy for a good word sparring tonight. My feet ached, and my back felt sore. One of the downsides of a standing profession. Especially if you only got a couple of hours of sleep due to working on video edits until the wee hours of the night.
“That was Ben. You know Ben. My ten-year-old nephew. He was calling to let me know they’re getting in tomorrow.” I stuck the last of the dishes in the machine and turned it on, knocking the door shut with my hip. I didn’t need to offer any explanation to Charlotte. She’d listened to enough stories about Ben, had chatted with him during our video calls enough times to know who he was, but her grin told me she wasn’t after details on Ben. And I wasn’t in the mood for whatever she was up to.
“And?” she prodded.
“And nothing.”
“So Ben was the one you were suggesting cooking dinner for?” She grinned as if she held a winning lottery ticket. It took all my self-control not to growl at her. Instead, I mustered a calm and collected, “No. It wasn’t.” And left it at that. Any details I gave her would just fuel whatever fire she had going. One spark, and she would light up the whole of Palm Springs single-handedly. She complained about Mamie’s mad skills, but given her dedication, I was sure she would surpass her if she kept this up.
“Shell,” she started, but I cut her off. It was time for me to get home and vegetate on the couch. I had a couple of containers of salted, malted cookie dough ice cream I had churned while making my video for the week, and it was calling my name. Screaming it, actually. Time to head out.
“I’m out of here, Char. I’ll see you in the morning. Love ya.” I kissed her on the cheek. Untying my apron and switching it out for my purse on the hook, I slung the strap on my shoulder. Giving Char one last wave, I headed out the back and into the cool evening air. Cali in the spring was nice and warm during the day, but the evenings had a bit of a bite to them. I didn’t mind. Soon even the evenings would warm, making it hard to find any kind of coolness without being inside with the A/C on. And I loved being outside. Always had.
I walked the short distance to my car, letting the tiredness of the day fall off me as I rolled my shoulders. My mind was already focused on the hot shower that awaited me. But first, some real food before I tucked into my dessert.
Seated on my sofa, I set my ice cream bowl on my legs. The two generous scoops I had served in my favorite turquoise bowl slowly melted as the heat of my bare skin warmed the cold ceramic now resting in my lap. I guess eating three slices of pizza before digging into my dessert wasn’t a stellar plan, but I was tired. And cranky. And I wasn’t known to make the best of choices when I was irritated and starved. Still, I wasn’t about to let this perfect frozen confection go to waste. I’d run it off in the morning.
I plucked the remote from my side table and switched on the TV. Selecting one of my favorite baking shows on Netflix, I sunk a little deeper into the soft pillows and let the tension ease out of my tight muscles. A few minutes into the show, a notification chirped on my phone. I would have ignored it, but it was resting on the armrest of the sofa, screen up. After another second, a new chime went off, lighting up the screen again, distracting me. As I reached to switch it off, I noticed a new message from Patrick. Seriously? I had told him to leave me alone. I had unfriended him on Facebook and blocked his number. Not that I was the bitter ex-girlfriend type, but when I had decided to surprise him that fatal day and walked in on him making out with some half-undressed girl, I was done.
No explanation could justify his tongue being down another person’s throat while her blouse was half unbuttoned. He had called, trying to explain, but two seconds in, I told him we were through and I never wanted to see him again. He’d called me another ten times that night. Ten times! The next morning I blocked his number, unfriended him on Facebook, and that was the last I had heard from him up until now. Eight weeks later. What could he possibly want? I decided to ignore the notification, swiping it away without opening the message. I guess I forgot to block him on Messenger. If I ignored him long enough, he would get the message.
I continued watching the show, but that reminder of yet another failed relationship in my miserable love life turned the ice cream and cookie dough in my stomach sour. Or was it the peperoni and cheese?
Curse that man and his womanizing ways. Was it so hard to find a loyal, decent guy these days? This was why I needed my rule. I couldn’t go through this again. My heart—and my digestive system, for that matter—could only take so much.
I switched the TV off, getting up and clearing away my bowl and spoon. As I bent down to pick up my phone, another chime lit up the screen. I growled, sending a boatload of karma tied up with a pink ribbon Patrick’s way. The kind that affected his male parts and covered him in pus-filled boils, possibly. Yeah, you did not want me on your enemy list. Instead, I noticed a message from the only guy that made my heart soar.
I quickly typed a reply, my lips tugging up in a grin.
My heart squeezed. I loved this kid more than I ever thought I could love another person. Granted, Ben was my only nephew, and I his only aunt. I think he and I really connected when Ben came over for Christmas to my parents’ home when he was only five. Ben was awkward around Mom and Dad. How couldn’t he be? He saw them only once, maybe twice a year. And they were the only family he ever saw. But Ben didn’t know me at all. And Zoë skipped out on us that year, again. I remember Ben being exceptionally clingy on Adrian that holiday. I decided from that moment on to be a part of Ben’s life. No more excuses. I was his only aunt, after all.
We started FaceTiming, and I would listen to him tell me all about his time in preschool and his friends. I sent him presents for all the important holidays and his birthday. And Adrian even let him have a sleepover with me when he visited a friend in California a year back.
Hearing Ben say those four words had the power to wipe away the misery of my silly little pity party and remind me of all I had to be thankful for. Why in the world was I wasting any more time feeling sad over an idiot like Patrick?
I brushed my teeth and dropped into bed, excitement filling me, thinking about tomorrow and spending the evening with Ben. Thinking of Ben eliminated even the darkest of my moods.
Chapter 5
ADRIAN
I loaded the last of our boxes into the U-Haul and closed the door.
“You ready, buddy?” I turned back to face the home Ben and I had shared for the last eight years.