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“Yes buddy, it’s going to be real cool,” I told him.
“I’ll make friends?” He asked, his voice worried.
“Of course, lots and lots and lots of friends, you’ll love it, I promise,”
“This many?” He asked, holding up three fingers. “Like Uncle Steve?”
“How about this many?” I asked, holding up all my fingers. “More than Uncle Steve,”
His eyes widened like he couldn’t fathom having ten friends when his uncle Steve had only three and I had none.
“Impossible!” He said.
“Very possible, buddy, just make sure to speak to all your classmates on the first day, get it? Everyone. Don’t miss a single person,” I told him.
He nodded his head vigorously, his hair flying back and forth.
“Good, then you’ll have no problem, none at all.”
If only it was that easy, making friends was easy, but keeping them was the hard part of the whole thing. I hoped that someday Mark would make friends he’d have through life.
I thought of Becca, Nat, and Steve. Becca and Nat had been no older than mites when they had started hanging out at our home with Steve and they had grown together. I had barely noticed them then until Becca became a teen, her doe eyes always picking me out in any room, and I found mine always tracking her at every party we went.
As much as the chemistry was obvious, so was the bickering and fights. We could never seem to agree on anything and now, we had taken it right into adulthood. Or at least I had, Becca had done her best to keep her anger at bay on her opening night.
Becca of old would’ve given back as good as she got. Except now she knew I hadn’t changed. She probably wouldn’t say a word to me again. I winced and looked at the water. I needed to apologize before it was too late. For being an asshole in the past and for being an asshole now.
“How about we go visit Becca at home?” I asked Mark, already coming up with a bold plan.
If I had Mark with me, Becca wouldn’t have a choice but to let her animosity go. She wouldn’t be able to send me packing with Mark right there. I smiled sardonically. My plan was simple, but it would work.
Not to use Mark, of course, but no one could resist the boy, and you didn’t waste an advantage in war if you had one. No, you used it to your next capacity and made sure that your opponent didn’t see you coming.
***
Becca’s POV
I step into the house and press the door shut; it’s been a taxing day all around. Two days ago, had been the grand opening of the café, and now, the place was bustling. That meant I had almost no free time and that I came home tired almost every night.
But today was better. Today I felt happy somehow like I’d had a strong dose of coffee and couldn’t relax. Maybe because I’d had rave reviews from some of the new customers, we’d had all day or maybe because most of them promised to come back for my prime beef soup. It was my grandma’s recipe, and they absolutely loved it.
And unlike Hunter, most of them liked the long passage and there had been almost no complaint about it in the suggestion box though we had a few suggestions concerning the price.
Now all I wanted to do was put my legs up and rest for the night, tomorrow I’d have to be at the cafe as early as possible. We only served the beef soup to two customers per day, but I wanted to make sure those two customers got the very best of my cooking.
I had just taken a shower and taken the stairs down to the kitchen when I heard the doorbell. I pulled my robe tighter around me and made my way to the door. Maybe Nat had dropped by after all. She’d said she would be too tired to come by after work when I’d called earlier, but you never knew. Nat could change her mind at any time, she was that spontaneous.
I unlocked the door and pulled it open, then stood there staring. Damnation. Hunter Cohen was at my door, and he looked good. Even better, he had Mark, who stretched his hand to me.
“Dad and I decided to come to see you,” the boy said.
“Oh, that’s so nice Honey, whose idea was that?” I asked, bending to his height and taking his hand to lead him inside the house, Hunter follows me inside. I was certain it was no mistake that he had shown up here with Mark.
“My dad wouldn’t let me come to the cafe earlier, said he didn’t want me to distract you.” Mark pouted. “Do I distract you?”
“Not at all.”
“That’s for sharing all my secrets, buddy,” I heard Hunter mutter behind us. I turned to him; my eyes angry. Now that he was here, my temper rose. He had been mean at my opening, unnecessarily abrasive considering the fact that he actually didn’t have to be. He could’ve used the suggestion box as easily as everyone else had, but no. Hunter had to be Hunter.
