stuck-up relatives. And I know you’re gonna tell me there are worse things than growing up rich.” I waved the spoon in the air. “You’re right, of course. Just ’cause people are wealthy doesn’t mean they’re evil. I always had plenty of money, thanks to Uncle Beau, and I like to think I’m a decent person.”
“Yes, but—”
“But how could I sleep at night, knowing Marigold isn’t with the person who loves her best, the person her mama chose to be her guardian? Bingo.” I pointed the spoon at her. “You hit the nail on the head. That’s exactly the question I’m wrestling with. Because money doesn’t solve everything either. In fact,” I added ruefully, “sometimes it causes a whole other set of problems.”
“Maybe—”
“Maybe Diesel could find someone else to be his partner? Yes, but…” The very idea made me wince… and then wince again because I’d winced the first time. I was already way too into Diesel Church for my own good. “No. Seems like everyone in the Thicket knows what everyone else ate for dinner last night. The only way to sell a relationship like this is for Diesel’s new fiancé to be someone who conveniently lived out of town until recently. Otherwise, the judge or the caseworker or the lawyer person, Stewie, or whoever will know we’re a pair of liars from the first minute.”
“Parrish, I really think—”
“It’s not my place to make those decisions? I hear where you’re coming from, Miss Sara, and you’re wise to mention it. Love is crucial, but Marigold needs stability and consistency too. Maybe it’s best to let the caseworkers and the courts weigh those things and make a decision.” I sighed and pushed the frosting bowl away, suddenly nauseous. “But I don’t know this judge from Adam, and neither does Diesel, I’m sure. What if they pick wrong? Could I live with the guilt of knowing I could have done something to stop it?”
“You really—”
“Can only control as much as I can control?” I sighed again. “Yeah. I know. And if I get in too deep and got my heart stomped, I’d have to live with that too. There are no easy answers.”
“Could you—?”
“Sleep on it? See how I feel in the morning after a good night’s rest?” I nodded appreciatively. “Good call. You know, I do feel sort of weirdly exhausted after our conversation, come to think of it.”
“I can’t think why,” she said faintly.
I hopped off the stool, went around the counter, and bent to kiss her cheek. “I can’t thank you enough for talking through this with me. I really value your advice.”
“Oh.” Miss Sara clapped a hand to her cheek over the spot where I’d kissed her and snickered as I walked out. “Anytime, honey.”
Colin, the flagship store’s interior designer, knocked on my open office door and stuck his head in. “Morning, Parrish. Beau said you’re not picking up your cell, so he asked me to tell you he’s having dinner at the Tavern Friday night with Mal and Brooks, and he’d like you to put it on your calendar. Seven o’clock.”
“Huh?” I blinked up from my contemplation of my laptop screen like I was waking up from a dream. “Oh, sure.” I picked up my phone and flipped the switch on the side. “Shoot. I had it on silent, I guess. Sorry about that, Colin. Uncle Beau doesn’t do voicemail.”
“No worries!” Colin glanced at my computer and did a double take at the images on my screen. He grinned broadly. “You have anything you wanna share, boss?”
“What? No!” I slammed the lid firmly like he’d caught me watching porn and not shopping for replacement baby bottle tops. “I just happened to run into a-a-a friend with a baby yesterday, and the poor thing had gas. I sort of thought it might be her bottle. Too much air.” I cleared my throat. “Thanks for the message.”
Instead of looking at me like I was crazy—which was probably what I deserved because seriously, what twentysomething gay man picked out nipples for a friend?—Colin nodded enthusiastically.
“Oh, sure. When Sadie had colic, my husband and I probably tried every kind of nipple on the market. Is your friend feeding his baby a sensitive formula? That’s what pinged for us in the end.”
“Er. I don’t know.” Nor should I, I reminded myself, since nothing about this situation was any of my business. And furthermore, after my conversation with Miss Sara, I’d decided once and for all last night—at approximately 3:00 a.m., which