the orchard for pest prevention. You’re hanging bait traps.”
“Cool, cool. So long as you don’t use me as the bait, it’s all good. I’m kind of irresistible, so…”
Everyone smiles except Daphne, who’s giving me another searching look. And if I’m not mistaken, it’s underscored with heat.
I have no idea when she and I are finally going to get together. I just know that when it happens, it’s going to be spectacular.
Twenty
Daphne
I don’t know how many times Rickie caught me staring at him this morning. Quite a few, I’m afraid. It was bad enough when I was only struggling with his raw sensuality.
But it’s even worse now that I have Chastity’s whispered gossip playing on repeat in my head. Rickie never hooks up.
First of all, that is incredibly hard to believe. I’ve never met someone more comfortable with his sex appeal. And secondly…never? Does that include kisses in the truck, and heavy make-out sessions on a blanket in the orchard?
Because that happened.
On my best days I don’t do all that well with uncertainties. But now they’re driving me crazy. After breakfast, my poor wandering eyes get a break when Rickie and Chastity head outside to hang pest traps in the orchard.
The rest of us have a family meeting. That means Griffin, Mom, and Audrey run the payroll, and then we all talk about plans and expenses for the coming month. Even May drives out to the farm for a family meeting.
“Where’d Dylan go?” I ask as we all sit down.
“Here!” he says, sliding into his seat at the last minute. He hates family meetings, they make him fidgety. I’m not a huge fan, either, but I show up out of obligation, and also to help my mother plan Thursday dinner, which is a family tradition.
“First order of business,” my mother says. “Tonight’s dinner will be served outdoors. It’s just too hot to have twenty people in the dining room.”
She’s right, it’s going to be a scorcher. But the number sounds high. “Wait, how many chairs do we need?” I ask.
My mother picks up her pen and starts jotting names down the margin of her legal pad. “Griff, Audrey, Gus, May, Alec…“ She keeps going, adding herself and me and Dylan and Chastity and Rickie. “No Zach tonight, but Kyle, Kieran, and Roderick are coming.”
“That’s thirteen,” I say. “Plus Grandpa is fourteen.”
“Is he bringing a guest?” Audrey asks with a smile. “I’ll just ask him.” She pops out of her chair and disappears into the TV room.
When she returns a moment later, she’s shaking her head. “No guest?” my mother asks, pen poised above the paper.
“Actually, he’s just not sure.”
“I got a bit of a situation,” Grandpa says from the doorway. “It could be a plus one, a plus two, or a big fat zero.”
“How’s that?” Griffin asks, looking amused.
“Well, I’m trying to date Mabel. But she said she's too old to start over. And I think that sounds like horse-pucky.”
My mother is still clutching the pen. “Should I write down Mabel as a maybe?”
“Then I danced with Patrice at the twins’ birthday, just to give Mabel something to think on. And it backfired.”
“Really,” Audrey says slowly. “Who knew that a blatant exploitation of a woman’s emotions could backfire?”
He gives her a sour look. “Now she says I'm too much of a bad boy for her taste. Do I look like a bad boy to you?”
“Yes,” says everyone at the table, in unison. It might be the only time we've ever agreed on anything as a family.
Grandpa scowls. “I invited Patrice to dinner. But now Mabel is asking me what I’m up to tonight. She’s fishing for an invitation. It’s a very fluid situation. Anything could happen.”
“Keep us posted,” my mother says. “We’ll assume Grandpa has one date tonight. That makes our grand tally about seventeen people.”
“Fifteen,” I correct, because accurate data is kind of a sticking point with me. Oh, the irony.
“We’ll be seventeen,” she says firmly, writing down that number and circling it.
“Do you have two dates tonight, too?” Griffin asks.
“I guess you’ll find out,” she says crisply.
There’s an awkward silence at the table. Dylan and I exchange a glance. It asks: what is up with everyone today?
“So,” Audrey says, her sunny voice puncturing some of the tension. “What’s on the menu?”
“I was thinking we should have a taco bar,” Mom says. “Grilled chicken and slow-cooked beef, and a lot of toppings.”
“Excellent.” Audrey claps her hands. “I can make a couple of sides. Mexican rice? Spicy black beans? Oooh—guacamole!”
“Roderick is