Come What May - L.K. Farlow Page 0,57
kid who goes after what she wants wholeheartedly. I’m two seconds away from asking Seraphine to step out when she finally spits it out.
“I was hoping Seraphine would wanna hang today? Like…just me and her.” Desi adds an apologetic shrug as she turns her eyes to the woman in question. “But it’s cool if you’re too busy.”
Seraphine smiles wide, wiggling out of my hold. “I’m free all day—what did you have in mind?”
Desi perks up. “Really?”
“Heck yes. Girl time sounds like the perfect Saturday to me.”
I grumble under my breath, pretending to be mad over not being included. Truthfully, I am ecstatic that two of the most important females in my life get along so well.
“Oh-em-gee! This is going to be the best day ever!”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Well, there’s that new pottery place but we could get our nails done?”
Seraphine thinks on it for a few. “How about we do both?”
“Really?”
“Def. But, we gotta stop for food first. You people have nothing to eat here.”
Desi grins. “It’s grocery day.”
Seraphine leans back into me. “Perfect. We can have a girls’ day and your dad can grocery shop. It’s a win-win.”
“For who?” I ask, laughing.
Desi rolls her eyes. “Us, Dad. Duh.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Seraphine
“What color do you want?” Desi asks, eyeing the rows of nail polish before us.
“Hmm. I don’t know.”
She slants her eyes up at me. “Dad’s favorite color is blue.”
I breathe out a laugh. “And you think I should get blue for him?”
Desi shrugs. “I mean, I bet he’d like it.”
“Are you picking your color for a boy?”
My teenage companion scoffs. “My only love is basketball—ooh! I’ll get my team colors!”
“Good choice,” I murmur, still taking in the colors, specifically the blues. Finally, I cave and ask, “What shade of blue?”
Triumphant, Desi reaches past me and grabs a bottle of pale shimmering blue-gray polish. “Like this.”
I shake the bottle a few times before flipping it and reading the name out loud. “Check Out the Old Geysirs.” I snort out a laugh, and so does Desi.
“Oh-em-gee!” she wheezes. “That is perfect. Because he’s so old and you’re not!”
“If you two could follow me,” an employee says before I can reply. But her words loop in my mind while we get situated. “Would you ladies like anything to drink?”
We both order a soda and tell our respective nail techs what we’d like. Once they get started, I turn to Desi and word vomit all over her. “Are you okay with me and your dad being together? I know he is a lot older, and it’s been just the two of y’all for a while. I really love your dad but your opinion matters, too, Desi. And I don’t want you to ever think or worry that I’m trying to or even want to replace your mother. I know she is important and special and I promise to always try and honor her memory. And—”
“Spazaphine, chill.”
“Did you just call me…Spaz…aphine?”
She snorts out a laugh, earning her a glare from her nail tech. “Stay still!”
“Sorry.” She ducks her head. “And yeah, I did. You just went all crazy on me.”
“Ugh.” If my nails weren’t being polished, I’d bury my face in my hands. “I guess I did.”
“You love my dad?”
“You caught that, huh?”
Desi nods.
“Yeah, I love him.”
“He loves you, too, you know?”
“What makes you so sure?”
“I just know. And I know you aren’t trying to replace my mom. I wasn’t ever worried about that. You’re good people and you make my dad happy. He deserves to be happy. And as for the age thing—I’ll tell you what I told him; it’s just a number.”
“You’re a wise kid.”
“Duh.”
“You wanna get coffee before we go to the pottery place?”
“I will never turn down coffee.”
“Same, girl. Same.”
I pay for both of us once our nails are dry and then we walk the block to Dream Beans, chatting mindlessly as we go. We place our order and retreat to a small table near the front window.
“Can I ask you something?” Desi asks, toying with the straw of her drink.
“Always, anything.”
She sucks down a sip of coffee. “Why did you leave the salon to work with my dad?”
“Well.” It takes me a minute to gather my thoughts. “Total honesty? I kind of went off the rails after my dad died. I wasn’t making very good choices.”
“Like that night at the fair?”
“Yeah, like that night.” A weary sigh leaves my lips. “You know, I don’t think I ever thanked you for stepping in and helping me. You calling your dad”—a