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She fingers a lock of Charly’s hair, before standing. Then a confused look crosses her face, and she rubs her fingers together, then smells them. “Does she have butter in her hair?”
I quickly look away and turn on the oven to warm up the ebelskiver pan. “Annnyway. Tell me about those squirrels.”
Hope walks to the sink and begins rearranging the dishes I’ve shoved in the dishwasher. “Seb, they ate all my mistletoe. Literally all of it. Your Uncle Pete and I had to fight them off.”
She talks in an animated, but quiet voice, as she washes dishes and tells me all about the two squirrel Petes and Grinchy. “Now that I think about it, Grinchy had a strong resemblance to Walter White. I could totally see him in a fedora and sunglasses. And he was definitely in charge of their operation.”
“Like fromBreaking Bad?” I interrupt. “You really think there’s a squirrel drug kingpin?”
“Mistletoe is their drug, Seb,” she says, completely serious, while water from the plate she’s holding drips down her arm . “And he’s definitely the dealer. Obviously, he didn’t make the stuff, but he knew it was good product, and he was willing to fight for it.”
By the time she finishes telling the story, the dishes are half done, she’s got a plate of delicious ebelskiver, and I’ve got tears streaming down my face I’m laughing so hard. Not just at her description of the squirrels as a local rodent drug cartel, but also at the image of her and Uncle Pete waving their arms around to scare away Walter and his gang, only to be cornered by them.
“So what are you going to do now?” I sit across the table from her while she digs into her ebelskiver.
“Pete said he’d find more.”
As soon as the words are out of her mouth, her phone buzzes and she pulls it from her back pocket. Her eyes roll across the message, then she throws her hands into the air. “Yes! He came through!”
“Uncle Pete always does.” I smile just because Hope does. I don’t care about the mistletoe; I just care that Hope is happy.
But then her face falls as another message comes in. “It’s in Florence. I’ve got to pick it up first thing tomorrow morning. Early. The florist has other people who want it.”
I glance out the window over the sink. Snow is falling gently, but half an hour ago, it wasn’t falling at all. It’s supposed to pick up and continue all weekend, which will make the canyon pass to Florence slow, and possibly treacherous.
“What time do you need to be there?”
“Seven am.”
I let out a soft whistle. “That’s going to be rough.”
“I’m going to have to get Charly up so early. But I can’t leave her all day again tomorrow.” Hope chews her lip and stares at her phone screen.
And I stare at her.
An idea is forming. An idea that might get me out of the friend zone.
A day taking care of Charly was good. I liked spending time with her. I might have liked it a lot. Even the butter part. I think I’ve made progress, not only with my own comfort and confidence with Charly, but also with Hope.
But a day with CharlyandHope might be just the thing to prove to all of us that, maybe, we could pretend to be a family and see how that works out.
Chapter 26
Hope
An hour after Pete texts me about the mistletoe, I transfer Charly’s car seat from my little Honda into Seb’s truck. Then I get her buckled in and tuck a blanket around her. She’s in her favorite cozy pjs and her moose rack hat, lights flashing. Usually I make her take it off at night, but nothing about this night is usual, so I let it go.
Once Charly’s in, I climb into the passenger seat.
“Ready?” Seb asks and shuts his door.
“Ready.” I hope I sound more confident than nervous. Because I’m definitely nervous about the fact Seb and I are going to spend the night together.
Not in the same bed, obviously. Not even in the same room. But we’re headed to Florence together, and we won’t be back until tomorrow.
He looks over his shoulder and smiles. “And how about you, Charly moose? Ready to go?”
Charly grins and gives him a thumbs up, then sticks the thumb in her mouth.
