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Rusty grins and hands a tray to me. “Take these in for your table. What did you think, by the way?”
“De-fucking-licious,” I say.
He laughs. “I haven’t named it yet—maybe I’ll use that.”
“I’ll take my 5% royalty in cash.”
“Bullshit!” he shouts, laughing hard and slapping me on the back. “Go enjoy your drinks, you dick.”
I give him a wave and head back inside the garden, weaving through the other tables full of people before I set my tray on the edge of ours. My siblings and Ruby lift their drinks up so I can slide it on.
“Here you go, fam. Rusty’s new drink, tentatively called De-fucking-licious.”
I glance around when nobody says anything, wondering what’s going on, and that’s when I realize they’re all smiling at me.
“What?”
“Next time you have it out with Corinne, make sure you’re farther away from the beer garden,” Bishop says, biting his lip.
“You were literally right on the other side,” Bells adds.
My eyes fly to Ruby’s, finding her looking at me with big eyes that are full of sparkle and emotion.
She leans into me and brings her mouth to my ear. “Standing next to you makes me proud, too,” she whispers.
And then she kisses me so good I forget all about the beer.
chapter twenty-three
Ruby
The rest of Sunday afternoon is kind of a blur, not because I had anything to drink, but because I’m riding on a high of emotional bliss.
Boyd did his best to keep me in positive spirits earlier, using his body to keep me distracted in the early hours of the morning then dragging me out of bed to go drop off tables and check in at One Stop to see the work done on the expansion.
I’m amazed by Andy’s progress, and it feels good to know the little bit of support I gave last weekend helped a small business. When you grow up poor, there isn’t much room for flexibility on where you shop for necessities. Any supplies we bought were from big-box stores, which I know compete directly with small businesses, shutting many of them down.
I may never have the ability to do most of my shopping from small businesses or local shops, but this trip taught me there’s always something else I can do to help. I’ll need to take that back with me to Boston and see where I can put that mentality to use.
A little later, we went to Summerpalooza and spent some time in the beer garden. I was still struggling with distancing my mind from what happened with my dad, but all of that fell away when I overheard Boyd talking to Corinne on the other side of the lattice wall covered in fake ivy. He said some of the most beautiful things. First, he went on the offensive, putting Corinne in her place regarding how she treated me. Then he bragged about the things he likes about me and told Corinne to back off.
My dad could take some pointers from Boyd Mitchell on how to handle difficult situations and people.
Now, as we drive back to the Mitchell house, I feel like a swoony mess, unable to look away from Boyd, unable to get this stupid smile off my face.
“I had fun today,” I tell him.
“I’m glad.” He looks over at where I’m sitting next to him in the beat-up blue truck he loves so much. “You wanna hit up one cool spot before we call it a day?”
I nod, enjoying when he squeezes my hand and makes a turn into a driveway, backing out and heading back in the direction we just came from.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
Boyd just smiles. “You’ll see.”
It only takes a few minutes since everywhere in Cedar Point is nearby, but eventually I realize we’re going to an area of town I haven’t been to before.
We drive past South Bank Resort and Marina, the one big hotel in town, according to Boyd. I haven’t been to this end of the lake, and I peer out the window at the long rows of docks and nice boats that are harbored along them.
