“That’s because you bat your eyelashes at her and she sees the little boy who still pronounced ‘library’ wrong.”
He snorts as he pulls a mountain of things from the refrigerator and sets them on the counter, his criminally long eyelashes brushing against his cheeks when he blinks. It’s the kind that women pay good money for, but he complains they get tangled and poke him in the eye.
Tough life.
“I have to think of something to do for the science fair.”
“Do you have anything you want to focus on or are we starting completely from scratch?” I ask, watching as he lifts one shoulder and lets it drop. He’s somehow gotten mayo all over his plate despite only putting it on one slice of bread.
The rules and regulations side of my brain coupled with growing up in a strict military household is screaming inside me, but I keep my expression relaxed because it’s not a big deal. Briggs is loud and messy, but he’s a great kid and still carefree despite the divorce and moving across the country to start a whole new life.
Preserving that innocence is one of my greatest accomplishments, and I’ll be damned if I let a little mess turn him into a thirty-year-old man afraid to talk to the person he likes.
Now is not the time.
Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, I fill it with water before drinking half and refilling it. I don’t need every thought bringing me back to Deacon. He’s distracting enough when he’s in front of me, but now he’s creeping into the residual effects of my childhood trauma.
“I dunno,” Briggs says, bopping along as he gathers all his snack materials and puts them away before taking his plate back to the island to settle in. “Everyone has something cool already.”
“Well, you could bake or do something with flowers or?—”
“Baking?” He wrinkles up his nose as he takes a massive bite, his jaw working overtime in the process.
“You know Uncle Hank makes bread. And artisan breads are always a big hit—people love something homemade.”
“I guess but I want to think of something else.”
“What about plants and soil pH? I know that the color of hydrangeas is dependent on the pH of the soil.”
“Flowers are boring.”
“I’m telling Uncle Case you said that,” I tease and he shakes his head, his eyes widening in horror.
“You can’t! He’ll be so sad and then he’ll make me follow him around the greenhouse again.”
I laugh, because that’s exactly something Case would do. He thinks flowers can fix anything, and honestly, his track record is pretty good with that theory.
“Well, start throwing out some ideas and we’ll see what we can do before your deadline.” Pausing, I narrow my eyes. “It’s not due tomorrow, is it?”
“No,” he huffs but it’s playful as he hops off the chair and puts his plate in the sink. “I have a few weeks.”
“Okay, well, let’s not wait until the last minute.”
“Iknow,Dad,” he replies, dropping onto the couch and stretching like a cat. “Can we have pizza for dinner?”
Conceding defeat, I down my glass of water and decide there’s no use fighting him right now because his brain has already jumped to six different topics that have nothing to do with science projects.
And that’s fine. I’ll just have to make sure we don’t end up sitting at the kitchen table until midnight like we did last time…
3
TANNER
7 MONTHS AGO
Mandatory Journal Entry #432
I don’t think I’ve ever met a person so attractive that they’ve rendered me speechless…until this week. I was blissfully unaware that my brain chemistry would be altered when Jude’s brother walked into Vetted Paws but it happened.
