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“Ashley is all Willow talks about,” Dennis says. “She’s so proud of her.”
“She’s an amazing young woman.”
“So is her mother.”
I nod. “How did you two meet, exactly?”
“Online, believe it or not. I’d just about given up meeting anyone decent on one of those sites, and then she came along.”
I drain the last of my coffee. Now what? I’ve effectively run out of things to talk to this man about.
“I understand you’re a winemaker,” he says.
“You understand correctly.”
“Then we have something in common,” Dennis says.
“Oh?”
“Yes,” he chuckles. “I drink a lot of wine.”
Ha! Never heard that one before. “Have you tried any of the Steel Vineyards wines?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“We’ll have to remedy that, then.”
“Sounds great. I’d enjoy it.”
Silence between us again. Ashley and her mother continue to jabber.
My name is called, and I walk to the counter and bring back the lattes.
“Thank you,” Willow says in a sing-songy voice.
“What do I owe you?” Dennis asks.
“Please, it’s on me.”
“Thank you. That’s kind of you.” He takes a sip of his latte.
And again…silence.
He seems like an okay guy, though.
“I can’t get over how young Willow looks,” I finally say. “She and Ashley could be sisters.”
“She is young,” Dennis says. “Didn’t Ashley tell you?”
“Her age? No, she didn’t.”
“She had Ashley when she was fifteen.”
I stop my jaw from dropping onto the floor. Fifteen? The poor woman was raped at fifteen? More likely at fourteen, if she had the baby at fifteen.
How did I not know this?
I’m about to marry a woman, and I know next to nothing about her or her family.
Not that it matters. I love Ashley no matter what. But we’ve known each other for less than a month.
What the hell am I doing? This is so off-brand for me.
Ashley’s twenty-five, which means Willow is forty, only five years older than I am.
“How old are you?” I ask Dennis.
He laughs. “I admit it. I’m a cub, and I have no problem with it. I’m thirty-three.”
Again, I stop my jaw from dropping. This guy is two years younger than I am.
“We joke that she’s a cougar,” Dennis continues. “But you have to admit, she looks amazing for forty.”
“She’s very striking,” I agree.
“It’s a match made in heaven,” he says. “I never wanted children, and she’s not looking to have any more.”
“How long have you known each other?”
“About six months, but Willow only just told Ashley. She didn’t want her to worry.”
“Why would Ashley worry?”
“Ashley’s very protective of her mother, apparently,” Dennis says. “At least that’s what Willow says.”
I nod. That’s certainly understandable.
“What do you do, Dennis?” I ask.
“I’m a pastry chef.”
Good. That’s a decent living.
“Where do you work?”
“At Chevalier in LA,” he says. “They’re getting bought out, though, so I don’t know if I’ll have a job in a couple months. We’re all hoping the new owners don’t want to bring in all new people.”
“Oh. I hope not.”
“I’m not overly worried. I have a good reputation in the area. Something will come up.”
Nice. He has a good attitude.
“And Willow does hair?” I say.
He nods, swallowing another sip of latte. “She does. She’s great at it, too.”
“I’m sure she is.”
More silence.
“How old are you, Dale?”
Weird question, though I did just ask him how old he was.
“Thirty-five.”
“Older than I am? You look younger.”
“It’s probably my hair.”
He nods. “Not too many guys our age wear it long like that. Looks good on you, though. I could never do it in my line of work. The hair net’s bad enough on short hair.”
Ashley and Willow squeal in unison.
“Okay,” Dennis laughs. “You got our attention. What’s going on?”
“Look at this rock!” Willow shoves Ashley’s hand under Dennis’s nose. “My baby girl is getting married!”
“My God.” Dennis leans back. “I think I might have just gone blind from that glacier.”
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Ashley says. “Dale knows my favorite gemstone is the garnet.”
Willow meets my gaze. “Dale, I have to tell you. As a stylist, I’d love to get my hands on that hair of yours.”
“No, Mom. Never,” Ashley says. “Dale, don’t you dare ever cut that gorgeous hair.”
I smile—a bit forced, but I get it out. “Don’t worry. If I haven’t cut it by now, I never will.”
“How about a deep condition, then?” Willow says. “You can’t dangle that glorious mane in front of me and not let me work with it.”
“Mom’s deep condition treatments are the best,” Ashley says. “You really should, Dale.”
“I’ll go to bat for Willow too,” Dennis adds. “Her scalp treatments are heaven.”
Really? Is this really happening? What am I supposed to say?
“Maybe,” I finally relent. “But this is vacation for you, Willow.”
“I don’t mean now,” she says. “I’m talking about when the two of you come visit Dennis and me in LA.”
“Of course.” I hope my cheeks aren’t red from embarrassment. “I’m sure we’ll visit soon.”
“Not until my internship is over, of course,” Ashley says. “I’ve already taken too much time off by coming here.”
