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“Some people can’t eat peanuts or shellfish or dairy.”
“Will it kill them?”
Jesus.
“I… in some instances, it could make them really sick, yes.”
“Will I get sick if I eat peanuts?”
“You eat peanuts all the time, buddy.”
“Sorry,” I said, feeling like I’d overstepped. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine. Scottie knows he has no allergies. But he does have some strong aversions to things. Isn’t that right, bud?”
“Yep. Are you allergic to pancakes, Harper? Can they kill you?”
“I…”
Thankfully the server returned with our drinks, and Scottie was too engrossed in his milkshake to ask any more awkward questions.
“Good?” Mason asked, and Scottie grinned, ice cream and cookie crumbs smeared all over his mouth. “You’re supposed to eat it, bud. Not wear it.”
Mason handed him a napkin, and Scottie ducked his head, blushing.
Just then, the server returned with our food order. “One mega stack with bacon. And granola and a fruit salad for you.” She slid two dishes in front of me, and I frowned.
“Problem, doll?”
“Is this natural granola?”
“It’s Dirk’s special recipe. He throws in a bit of this and that. Never had any complaints.” She glowered, and I shrank into my seat.
“Okay, thanks.” I smiled.
“You need anything else, just holler.”
“Is the granola cross-taminated?” Scottie asked, already digging into his pancakes.
“It might be,” I said, pushing the bowl away.
I should have just stuck to the fruit salad.
“It’s only a bit of granola,” Mason said. “Surely, it can’t be that bad.”
Great, even he thought I was overreacting.
“It’s fine. I’m not hungry, anyway,” I snapped, a tad defensive. But it was frustrating always having to justify my choices or scrutinize the menu or question the servers about their food preparation habits.
Even in restaurants that were more allergen-friendly, it could be awkward. But experiences like this one made eating out barely worth the hassle.
Scottie was oblivious to the tension, wolfing down his pancakes like they might disappear at any second. When he finally came up for air, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked at me.
“It’s a shame pancakes can kill you, Harper,” he deadpanned, “because you don’t know what you’re missing.”
CHAPTER11
MASON
