Our eyes met for the briefest moment, and I found his thick with emotions shifting in shadows behind them. As if he had a leash on the whole lot of those emotions and spent all his energy keeping them heeled.
Just like that, he turned to leave, walking back toward the offices with broad shoulders straight despite the weight they carried. I wondered if he knew he didn’t have to bear his burden alone. He had his brothers, the three of them mixed in with the crew with beers in their hands and smiles on their faces. I did my best to quell the thought that I could help too. It wasn’t my place.
Though I kind of wished it was.
9
COOKIE MONSTER
KEATON
I frowned at the cookie dough in the bowl, spoon in hand.
“Are you sure it’s supposed to look like that?”
Sophie nodded.
Cole looked over my shoulder. “Nope. Why’s it so dry?”
“I don’t know. I put in a half a cup of butter like it said.”
“Well, that’s why,” he answered. “It’s a cup and a half.”
I looked down at Sophie, who shrugged.
With a sigh, I stuck the spoon into the dough and turned for the fridge.
Cole leaned against the island behind me with a Coke bottle in his hand.
“Your build’s coming along,” he said. “It was weird to stop by yesterday and see something vertical.”
“How’s the Blum’s barn restoration?” I asked, heading back to the bowl with a couple sticks of butter in my hand.
“Just about done. Funny you’ll probably be finished before me.”
“Mine’s prefab. You’re restoring a hundred-fifty-year-old barn.”
“Rebuilding it, more like. I don’t see the Blums much. Not as much as you do for sure.” He took a sip of his Coke, but I didn’t take the opportunity to respond, focusing instead on watching the microwave count down the melting of my butter in the hopes he’d disappear.
No such luck.
“How’s it been with Daisy?” he asked.
“What do you mean? It’s just like working with anybody.” I took the bowl out and poured it into our cookie mix.
He snorted a laugh. “I’ve seen the way you look at her, and it’s not how you look at anybody else you work with.”
“She’s so pretty,” Sophie added, taking the spoon and attempting to stir with her face all screwed up. “Will you take me to the bee farm one day, Daddy?”
“Uncle Keaton will.”
“Why me?”
“Because making you squirm is my favorite hobby,” he answered. “You oughta see her.”
I did my level best not to see Daisy, but I didn’t mention that, knowing it would lead to a conversation with him as to why. When she asked me the other day if I’d been avoiding her, I’d dodged as best I could, playing dumb in the end. There was no way to be honest with her, not that I wanted to regarding that.
I couldn’t explain succinctly to Cole that I wasn’t fit for the public. I never knew what to say, so if I could help it, I didn’t say much. And when I did speak, I said the wrong thing. I couldn’t tell him that thinking about Daisy made me feel too many different ways to count. She made me think about things I didn’t want to consider or remember. I didn’t want to think about Mandy around Daisy, but I did. I didn’t want to think of Daisy at all, but it was impossible not to. I watched her across the office every day as she made calls or sent emails or made herself coffee, the impulse to look so strong, sometimes I’d make myself scarce just so I didn’t have to fight it. I lived in a cycle of hope and guilt, opting to keep my hands busy so I could avoid it—and her—as much as humanly possible, considering we worked together.
Two months, and the project will be finished.
The thought left me both relieved and revulsed.
I was a contradiction in a hard hat, and I hated that too.
When I didn’t respond, he picked up where he left off. “You should ask her out.”
“Man, you just don’t take no for an answer. Why do you want me to go out with her so bad?”
“Partly for reasons I can’t mention around my child.”
Sophie rolled her eyes.
“But mostly because all you do is eat, sleep, and work, which is both your hobby and your job. That alone is terrible—hobbies are meant to be enjoyed, not monetized. Because all you ever do is work. You can’t stop yourself, and it’s bad for you.”
“I’m not working right now,” I noted.
“Making cookies with Sophie for an hour doesn’t count.”
“I think it counts, Uncle Keaton,” she said, abandoning the spoon in favor of mixing the snickerdoodle dough with her hands.
“Thank you, Sophie.”
“Why not date Daisy?” he pressed.
“Why are you so relentless?”
“Why won’t you answer the question?”
“I don’t have time to date, and you know it.”
“I think you’d be surprised by how much time you could scrounge up if you had a reason.” He checked his watch, polished off his Coke, and tossed the bottle in the recycling. “I need to run an errand, is Sophie okay to stay?”
“’Course.”
“Bye, Daddy,” she said absently, watching the dough squish out from between her fingers.
“Bye, squirt,” he answered, kissing the top of her head when he passed. As he grabbed his keys and opened the back door, he said, “Speaking of Daisy, she has some papers I mentioned I needed. Pretty sure she’ll be here in a few minutes.” His smile was so absolutely terrible, I imagined putting a fist through it.
Furious, I reached for him before remembering my hands were covered in dough. “You did what now?”
“She should be here in five. Be nice to her, would you? She’s the first girl to sneak into your bear cave in years. Don’t scare her off just yet.”
“You set me up.”
His smile somehow got worse. “Just get the papers from her, Keaton. You don’t have to propose.”
The door shut before I could bitch him out. My jaw clamped shut and ground hard enough to make my teeth squeak.
Unfazed, Sophie removed her hands from the dough and held them up so she could pick the excess off.
“Your dad’s a punk, did you know that?”
“I think we all are,” she said, sager than her years.
“Guess you’re not wrong. Ready to ball these up?”
“Mhmm.” She nodded, her smiling lips together, though the tip of her tongue stuck out just a little as she grabbed a wad of dough and shaped it into a sphere. “This size?” She held up the ball for my inspection.
“Looks good to me.”
Sophie set the dough ball in the bowl of cinnamon sugar and rolled it around before placing it on the cookie sheet next to her and went for another. “I think Daisy should be your girlfriend too.”
“My dating life is none of your beeswax, nosy Rosy.”
She gave me a look.
“Don’t gimme that face.”
“You should have a girlfriend so I can have cousins.”