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“We are?”
“Yes, sweetpea.” Mom stood and swept over, gazing up at me as she rested a comforting hand on my shoulder. “You’ve seemed unsettled these last few days. I can feel it. We want to take you out. Spend the morning together before I go to the shop.”
I squirmed a little, gulping down juice so I didn’t have to answer at first. Lowering the glass, I gave her a smile. “I’m not—I’m okay. But sure, breakfast sounds nice. Where are we going?”
“Just to Lupe’s. Your dad has a hankering for their breakfast scramble.”
I perked up. “Noice. Okay. Let me go get changed.”
“Oh, no, don’t change your T-shirt, flower!” Mom cried in dismay. “It means so much seeing you in it. My little sweetpea.”
I huffed, letting my head fall back. “Fine, I won’t change my T-shirt. But I need to go put real pants on.”
“I’ll come up to wake your brother.” She tucked her arm through mine and led us out of the kitchen. “Are you sure you’re alright, sweetpea?”
“I’m fine, Mama.”
“Alright,” she said softly, then after a pause, added, “It’s just that you stayed out all night the other day, after you came home early from work. Is everything alright at work?”
“Yep,” I said cheerfully. “All totally fine.”
“Alright. If you ever want to talk…”
“I know, Mama.”
“I know there are some things you might not want to talk to your parents about, but that doesn’t mean you can’t. You can tell us anything, Larkin.”
“I know,” I repeated, giving her a tiny smile as we reached the top of the stairs. “Really, I’m fine. I’m great.”
She didn’t look like she fully believed me, but she nodded and pecked my cheek. “Alright, sweetpea. Let me go wake your brother.”
I hurried into my room so I didn’t have to witness Nolan whining about being woken up early and swapped my sweats for some jeans, then threw a baggy cardigan on over my T-shirt. After checking my hair looked okay, I made my way back downstairs and joined my dad at the table while we waited for Mom and Nolan.
Dad’s mauve hair was in two braids, and Mom had already gone outside to pick a daisy to put behind his ear, like she did most mornings in the warmer months. They were such dorks.
“What do you think I should grow next, Son?” Dad asked, flicking through the seed catalogue he got delivered every quarter. There was a fae-run seed business a few towns over, and Dad had been a loyal customer for decades, even though I’d told him he could just order whatever he wanted online. “Job’s Tears or Kiwano?”
He also liked to try growing new, unusual fruits and vegetables every year. We’d been made to eat some questionable stuff in the past.
“Dunno what either of them are.” I stole Mom’s cup to have a sip of herbal tea.
“Job’s Tears are easier to grow here, I think, but I like a challenge.” He chuckled and nudged me with his elbow.
I peered over at the catalogue, then pointed at a grainy photo of some small green-and-white ball things. “Ooh, how about those?”
“Cucamelons?” Dad perked up, then beamed at me and squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll grow them for you, Son. You like cucumber.”
I grinned back. “Thanks.”
“Or you could try,” he suggested hopefully. “I can order the seeds and get a container all ready for you in a sunny spot in the garden.”
“Sure.” I remembered telling Seb that I hadn’t had much of a chance to do stuff with my dad recently, and I knew it made him happy, so I could make the effort to grow some cute little cucumbers in the yard.
I wondered whether Seb liked cucumber. Maybe when they were ready I could give some to him. I bet he’d be impressed that I’d grown them myself.
As Dad started jotting down the seeds he wanted to buy in his dirt-streaked notebook, I pulled out my phone and opened my texts. Belly flipping with nerves, I typed out a message to Seb. Just a casual one. Super casual, how friends casually texted in a casual way.
Gonna grow these tiny cucumber things with my dad. Do you like cucumber?
