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Today, as usual, Dean and Dylan drive up early in the evening, and we decide which one of us will cook for the night. I’ve started to cherish my time with the Cornel boys. Dean especially. He’s so easy to talk to, and our conversations seem to effortlessly flow. Last night was like talking with an old friend…or lover.
No. I shake my head, forcing the thought from my brain. I cannot go there. I don’t exactly have the best track record with relationships. Dean might be perfect, but I am not.
As I prep all the ingredients for dinner, I tell Dean about an excellent deal I got on some pork chops at the butcher. It feels so domestic and perfect that I kind of want to throw up from nerves, or….. kiss him again.
See? I tell myself. Not a good combo.
“What sides are you making?” Dean asks, leaning over my shoulder to look at the vegetables I’m chopping. This close, I can smell his woodsy cologne, and my body reacts, pressing closer to him before I can stop it. “Green beans and potatoes. And maybe even a potato roll,” I say, joking, “if you’re good.”
Dylan and Mina come rushing into our—no, my, kitchen—and Dean finally moves away from me.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I overreact, as normal. My mind always goes to the worst case.
“There are geese!” Mina shouts.
“Oh?” I ask. We’ve seen geese before in the park.
“Where?” Dean asks.
“We’ll show you,” Dylan says, grabbing my hand. He and Mina pull me from the house, Dean following behind.
Grandpa Bob is out watering his garden, and he yells after us, “Did I hear you say geese? Those are some mean suckers. Be careful!”
We all pretend like we didn’t hear him. If we did, he’d only regale us with another one of his thirty-minute stories about ‘when I was a kid.”
“Look! They’re right there,” Mina announces.
There, in the pond, is a mama goose with her goslings.
“Oh, they’re so cute!” I say, charmed despite myself. “Look at the little fuzzy ones.”
“Yeah, but your grandpa’s right,” Dean says, pulling the three of us back before we can get too close. “Especially with the mom. She might be overprotective. We should leave.”
“Fine.” I think the goose and I would make a strong connection, you know, as mothers, but we listen to him anyway.
Once we get closer to the barn again, Mina says that a baby kitten needs help being bottle-fed and asks Dylan to come with her.
“Wait, what?” I ask. This is the first time I’ve heard of a baby kitten.
“What?” Mina turns around to face me.
“How do you know how to bottle feed a baby kitten?” I ask.
“Kitten Lady. She has a YouTube channel and posts a ton of videos about how to care for tiny kittens.”
“I’m so proud of how independent and self-assured you’ve become since we arrived, Mina, but still, do you think we should get a vet to check it just to make sure everything’s okay?”
“Sure, if you want.” Mina shrugs. “But I know I’m taking really good care of her.”
“I’m not doubting that, sweetie,” I say. “But a professional can make sure she’s getting everything she needs, since she’s so tiny.
“Ugh, fine,” Mina says, brushing me off. She grabs Dylan’s hand and pulls him to the barn. So, I guess that conversation is over.
I roll my eyes. One minute, Mina is my sweet, caring daughter, and the next, she’s a snarky teenager who wants to be treated like the adult that she isn’t, quite yet.
“So, about these pork chops…” Dean brushes a stray hair out of my eyes and tucks it behind my ear. “Come inside and check them out.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Dean says, settling his hand on my lower back as he leads me back into the house. Even after he removes it to open the front door for me, I can still feel the heat linger through my clothes.
