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“Uh…” I’m speechless as I imagine my hands twisting in her dark locks as I pull her closer to me for a deep kiss.
“What’s up?” she asks after a second of silence. Even the concerned frown on her face and how she’s scrunching up her nose are cute. Oh man, I have it bad.
“Oh, um, I brought this.” I lift up a lamp.
“You bring a lamp but not your bedding?”
I laugh. “Priorities, I guess.”
She looks me up and down suspiciously. “I guess.”
“Is Mina around?” Dylan asks.
“Yeah, she’s in the barn. I think she’s feeding the goats. Do you want to go help her?”
“I mean, I could…”
She and I laugh as Dylan very eagerly skips over to join Mina.
Mae says, “Grandpa just made a batch of his famous lemonade. Would you like a glass?”
“I’d love one.”
“Great. Hang tight. I’ll be right back.”
While she’s gone, I locate some chairs toward the back of the house, and take a seat. Taking in the beautiful landscape of their property is so relaxing. And mine, as well. It’s so peaceful out here. There’s farmland and green trees as far as the eye can see. A gentle breeze cuts through the summer heat, and in the distance, a bird sings. It’ll be a shame that that’ll all be torn down soon.
“Here you go,” Mae says, handing me a cool glass of lemonade.
“Thanks.” I accept the glass from her. Then, I take a sip and start coughing a little.
She cracks up. “Sorry, I should’ve warned you. It’s really tart. Grandpa doesn’t like it with all the sugar that we put in it today.”
I swallow against the sourness. “But at least modern lemonade doesn’t hurt going down.”
“Aw, you can’t handle it? I can bring you some sugar cubes if you’d like,” Mae teases.
“No,” I protest before downing the whole thing, in two slugs
She watches with her mouth wide open.
“Aagh!” I yell, after finishing it.
“Wow. Very impressive. How do you feel?”
“Like I just swallowed seven Warheads.”
Mae chuckles and rolls her hazel eyes at me before getting up and saying, “I’ll get you some water.”
After she returns with a glass of ice water, she casually sips the lemonade from her own glass. I wonder if the drink would taste any sweeter if I were licking it from her lips.
“You actually like that stuff?” I ask, instead of leaning forward to test out my theory.
“Oh, I love it. Mina, too.”
“You people are nuts.”
“Well, Dean, we grew up with it. It might not taste the best, but it reminds us of Grandpa Bob.” Mina laughs.
