He winked at me, and then at Ari, his blue eyes twinkling against his rich, brown skin. “Girl, I play a multitude of instruments. I’m a musician at heart, and I tell my stories through my music. Now, how are those kittens of yours?”
I pulled out my phone and showed him pictures. “They’ve grown into beautiful adults but they’re still babies to me. Xi’s my familiar.”
He touched the side of his nose. “I thought she had a shine to her, and the minute you came along, I knew that she was yours. So, are you ready for the holidays?”
“No, but getting there. I’ve been back in Moonshadow Bay almost a year now, and I’m settling in. Well, we should get moving, but tell your daughter I said hi and happy holidays.”
“Monique would send you a hello and happy holidays back,” he said. He gave me another hug and I pulled out a five and tucked it into the donations box that was sitting beside the drummer. Ari did the same as we headed past them, aiming for the hot dog vendor who was on the other side of the fountain. We bought hot dogs and settled on a bench to eat.
“This has been a nice afternoon,” Ari said. “It’s been awhile since we’ve had a chance to hang out together. Is there anyplace else you need to go today?”
“I thought I’d stop and get a present for Teran at Bigelow’s Garden Center. I’m buying her a gift certificate because there are a dozen things she wants for the upcoming spring and she is on a fixed income, for the most part.”
“Really? I didn’t realize she was on Social Security.”
“She has some savings, and she teaches a community class here and there and reads the cards for a few clients, but I didn’t realize until I moved back that she’s on a tight budget. She goes out of her way to donate to the soup kitchens and to help everyone out, so I want to give her the chance to buy something she loves for herself.”
“Your aunt is one of those people who always puts other people first. I’ll get her a gift certificate too, so she can splurge,” Ari said.
“I’m making mine for a hundred and fifty,” I said.
“I’ll add another fifty so—two hundred? Nice round number?”
“Wonderful! She’ll love it.” I searched in my purse for my keys, though by the time we were at the car, we were soaked. But that didn’t matter. We climbed in, I turned on the heat, and we headed for Bigelow’s.
After buying the gift certificates, we stopped by an espresso stand, then headed for the grocery store. “Did you need any groceries while we’re here?”
Ari thought about it for a moment. “We don’t need a lot, but that will save having to do it tomorrow.”
We gathered our carts and started working our way through the store. I stared at my list, which was a mile long. “Who knew it took so much food to make a Thanksgiving dinner?” I asked. “I have some stuff already, too. I’m going to fill the cart and have overflow.”
“You can put it in my cart. All I need are the fixings for spaghetti,” Ari said.
I stopped by the stand to order the turkey—fresh, not frozen—and they gave me the receipt for it. I’d pick it up Wednesday afternoon, so I’d only have to store it for one night. After that, I started dumping foodstuffs in my basket. Butter, flour, cans of pumpkin, celery, bread and veggies for stuffing, a bag of potatoes, spiral-cut ham, two bags of Hawaiian rolls, milk, eggs, green beans—I wasn’t fond of green bean casserole but Ari loved it—mushroom soup mix and dried onion slices, a brownie mix, a bag of apples for apple pie, white wine, and bouillon paste.
Ari pointed to the cereal aisle. “Didn’t you say you were out of cereal?”
“Oh, right,” I said. I added oatmeal and boxed cereal to my cart. Then I remembered I had to have food for the days leading up to Thanksgiving. Ari’s spaghetti sounded good, so I added spaghetti noodles, ground beef, and a couple jars of spaghetti sauce to the cart. I also added a package of pork chops, a cut-up fryer, and several frozen sides, then decided on oranges, bananas, and apples for the fruit bowl.
“I dread seeing the final total,” I said, grimacing. “I can’t imagine having kids and buying food for them on a daily basis. It’s expensive enough to buy for occasional guests—and I’m not complaining. Just…prices keep going up.”
“Don’t forget your coffee beans,” Ari said, adding a box of bakery doughnuts to her cart, along with two loaves of bread.
We made our way through every aisle and I decided to throw a couple bouquets of flowers on top of the mound of food. As we were waiting to check out, Ari handed me her phone.
“Look at that.”
I glanced at the picture. Meagan was there, kneeling on the bed, wearing a bikini with a pink sheer overblouse on. She looked amazing. She was a personal trainer, tall, blonde, and with legs that went on forever. She was every playboy’s dream, but all her attention was focused on Ari.
Their wedding plans had been upended by a big fight with Meagan’s mother—who had disowned her—so they had gotten married in a small ceremony at the courthouse in September. They hadn’t had an official reception yet, and Meagan had texted me a week ago, asking me to help her plan a surprise party for Ari. I had agreed, because—well, my best friend and her wife? I’d do anything for them.
Whistling, I winked at Ari. “You’re a lucky woman. She’s gorgeous.”
“She’s entering the Ms. Otherkin Fitness Contest. She works out five times a week at the gym, plus teaching two aerobics classes, four yoga classes, and the personal training she does. If she doesn’t win, there’s a problem,” Ari said. She shook her head. “Sometimes I feel like a couch potato next to her.”
“You have a wonderful figure. You’re just petite.”
“I hate exercising,” Ari said with a laugh.
“I do too, but I’m trying to make it to the gym a couple times a week. I feel better when I go, even though I don’t like it. I’m working with some trainer named Antoine. He’s a French stag shifter. Killian’s jealous,” I added, laughing. “Luckily, I’m not in the gym enough for him to worry. Plus…Antoine is—”
“Gay?”
“No, I was going to say, Antoine is very picky. He’s never insulted me directly, but it’s obvious he doesn’t care for plus-sized women—at least not as a love interest. He makes that clear every time he ogles some gym bunny who walks by. I’m thinking of asking for a female trainer because I’m getting tired of being reminded that I don’t fit society’s standards.” I looked over at Ari. “It’s not that I want him ogling me—not at all. But the difference in how he treats his thin female clients and how he treats those of us who have more padding is night and day.”
“Could it be because you’re his client? Maybe he’s got rules to follow.”
“No, because he jokes around with his thinner clients. He treats the rest of us like we’re a chore to get through with as quickly as possible. Regardless, I wish he’d rein it in. It’s insulting to the women he’s ogling, because he’s not subtle, and insulting to the rest of us…all around…”
“All around, you’re insulted?” Ari asked. “Why don’t you ask Meagan to train you? She’ll go at your speed—she’s not one of those trainers who pummels their clients into submission.”