Page 69 of Tastes Like Summer

I grab a few carrot tops, and throw them at her.

Lexi expertly dodges them with a chuckle.

“I hate you. You’re an asshole.”

She shakes her head and continues chopping before scooping the contents of her cutting board and placing them in a small bowl, prepping her mise en place before starting to work on our new dish.

“Fine. I’ll just go about my business, continue to do prep for this stew idea you have—which sounds far from elevated fine dining.”

I grin and take a bite from a leftover carrot. “I have a specific vision for this one,” I tell her. “It’ll be a beef stew like you’ve never seen before—comforting, familiar, and beautiful. Something to keep your heart warm and make you feel at home. We’re trying to revolutionize fine dining, remember? Not elevate it.”

Lexi gawks at me. “Oh, Jesus, you’re in love, aren’t you?”

I roll my eyes and scoff. “Shut up.” But I make a desperate exit because even the suggestion of it has my heart racing, beating a loud drum against my ribs. When I finally retreat into my office, I’m half terrified, half exhilarated. This thing is so new, but I think it’s real—I sure as hell want it to be. It’s the first time I’ve ever been interested in something serious, something long-term, and I won’t let a silly thing like distance be the thing to fuck it up.

Diana and I haven’t talked about specifics yet. Our night together mostly centered around doing other things—very quietly, since the girls were in the house. By the time morning came, the storm was in full swing and our priority became distracting our daughters from the strong winds and rain outside, keeping them entertained and comfortable—managing any type of cabin fever without letting on that we had just spent the night in bed together and I was absolutely gone for her.

There was one problem, however—one that I hadn’t told Diana about yet—which is that, just as I was tiptoeing out of my bedroom to get back to the couch, I ran into a bleary-eyed Camila. I stopped dead in my tracks and hoped her grogginess would aid in believing me when I told her I was just coming from the bathroom. I thought about telling Diana about it, but between one thing and another, it slipped my mind. Now, as I remember the incident, I take comfort in the fact that Diana hasn’t mentioned anything about it, meaning I’m sure her daughter barely registered it.

As if summoned by my thoughts, my phone vibrates in my pocket, Diana’s name popping up on the screen.

“Hey,” I say, leaning against my desk for support. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Oh, yeah?” she whispers. I can practically hear the way she bites her lip, trying to stop a smile from spreading across his face.

“Yeah. Was thinking about maybe taking you out on a date? It’s kind of about time I followed through with that, don’t you think?”

I hear her laugh over the phone, the sound thrilling. Knowing I get to make her happy like this is more than I could have ever imagined.

“Sure. Where do you suggest we go? And how? It feels like I’m always working or studying or taking care of the girls. It’s not like I can ask you to babysit. I kinda need you to be at this date, too.” She chuckles. “We can ask Catterina again, but I feel weird about it.”

“What if I ask Lexi and Lauren to watch them? That way they can hang on the farm, and I can take you out to lunch—it doesn’t have to be anything special.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“C’mon. You know what I mean. You can talk Lexi through exactly what you talked me through for Emi. She’s a mom of two heathens, so she’s not inexperienced, either. She can handle your two daughters—they’re practically a pair of angels. All I care about is spending time with you. I didn’t even get to see you this morning at drop-off. I just want us to be together.”

Her inhale is low, but I hear it nonetheless. “I really, really want to. But we had a scare last night, and it’s not something I want to risk now by leaving Emi alone.”

I stand, body tense. “You what? Is she okay? What happened?” Emi is such a good kid; the idea of her having another crisis is like a punch in the gut.

Diana sighs, and suddenly, I can hear the exhaustion dripping from the other end of the line. “She’s fine, thank god. Her CGM app went off at like 2 A.M., and I had to wake her and make sure she was okay, and…” Another sigh—deep and sad. “She’s fine. It was a false alarm caused by a compression low, which happens⁠—”

“When the person rolls on the CGM in the middle of the night which moves the interstitial fluid and makes the CGM misread blood sugar, I know.” I exhale and run my fingers through my hair as I will my heartbeat to come back down. “I read it could happen.”

There’s a weighted silence on the other end of the phone. Did she not think I’d do my own research? Does she still not know how much I care about her kids? About her?

“Yes, that’s right. Anyway, I had them both stay home today after I had a mild freak out—that’s why you didn’t see me this morning and why I’m keeping my voice kinda low. I don’t want them to hear me.”

I hesitate for a moment, consider telling her about what happened the other night with Cami but decide against it. She doesn’t need more stress in her life.

“Okay. Then how about I let you rest today. Tomorrow, though… I need to see you.”

“I need to see you, too…” she whispers, a smile in her voice. “I just don’t know how without raising any weird suspicions. Plus, with all this work I have…”

“Let me figure it out, okay? You have enough to worry about right now.”

Through the living room window, I watch him park in the driveway and pull two bags of groceries from the backseat, his muscles flexing almost in slow motion under his ever-present white t-shirt. When he catches me checking him out, the smirk on his face almost knocks me over, knees weakened without hope of revival.