Page 38 of Afternoon Delight

Meg

I didn’t see Zak the next day, but he texted:

If anyone comes to the store tell them we’ll be back tomorrow. Specialist with Dad.

I almost tagged his message with a heart but wondered if that was too Valentine-y after our kiss. Instead, I texted back:

If anyone comes to your store, I’ll poach them the way I always do.

His response took long enough that I started to wonder if I’d been too flippant—especially considering he was still reeling from what had happened with Dale yesterday.

Then he texted:

I don’t want a war, but I can compete if I have to.

He added a photo of something that looked like an old-fashioned egg-beater with a phallus instead of beaters.

A hand-cranked vibrator?

I laughed for an hour, picturing a man between a woman’s thighs, rolling his wrist like he was landing a marlin, trying to get her off with that contraption.

Zak and Dale were back in the store on Saturday, but I didn’t see Zak until Zara’s husband, Kyle, came into my shop to take measurements of the doorways and look at other modifications to make the shop wheelchair accessible.

“The alcove entrance is the biggest stumbling block,” Kyle said, pointing with his extended tape measure.

“The most elegant solution is to push the doors out so they’re even with the front windows, maybe make it an automatic slide.

Then I could build a common ramp that leads into both shops.

That’s also a very spendy solution, even with the friends-and-family discount.

The ZZ Twins—that’s what everyone called them in high school—are talking about selling the building if they need to put Dale in care.

Dropping big reno money into this place won’t necessarily get a better price, so. ..”

“They’re thinking of selling?” Oh no. “Because of the meeting with Dale’s specialist yesterday?”

“They’ve actually been going back and forth on selling since Tammy died.

Dale wanted to hang onto the shop out of nostalgia.

They didn’t fight him because it got him out of the house and kept him busy.

For years, he did most of the work, but now.

..” He shrugged. “Zara has never wanted it. Zak might feel differently now that he’s decided to stay, but?—”

He had?

The bell jangled.

Zak walked in holding an upside-down toddler. The kid had sandy blond hair and blue eyes like Kyle’s.

“Dada!”

“Hey, champ. Is it time to get Lance to soccer already?” Kyle checked his phone.

“Not yet,” Zak said. “But this kid is a tornado. At least nothing in here is breakable.”

“Only my marriage if your sister finds out you brought him in here. I’m almost finished. Let me see what needs doing in the can.” Kyle slipped into the bathroom and the metallic whisper of the tape measure extended and snapped a few times.

“What do you think of this, Ollie?” Zak set the boy stomach-down on the sex swing. “That’s fun, right?”

“That is every color of wrong,” I said with a pained wince.

“At least he’s smart enough to use a spotter.” Zak spun the swing, then stepped back so he wouldn’t be struck by Oliver’s kicking feet as it unwound.

I bit my lip, not letting him see he’d made me laugh.

“How did it go yesterday? How’s it going today?” I asked.

“Today is fine. Yesterday was okay. When he got up, Dad asked Zara why she was there instead of me. We went to the specialist, and we’re going to tour some facilities next week.

If and when it comes to that, we’ll at least know which one Dad liked.

Some of them have day programs for caregiver respite, so we’re going to try putting him in some of those, but it’s fu—” His gaze flicked to the toddler. “Fundamentally brutal.”

“I bet.”

He probably didn’t hear me. Oliver was yelling, “Ahhhhh!” as he slowly spun.

The toddler was cute and lively and all I could think was that there was not enough money in the world to make me start having kids again. I wasn’t ready for Shelby or Rod to turn me into a grandmother yet, either.

“Okay, champ, we gotta go.” Kyle came out of the bathroom. “Say bye to Uncle Zak and Ms. Meg.”

“No.” Oliver clenched his fists in the straps of the swing and kicked against the floor.

Amateurs. “Oliver, come see this toy I have for you.” I moved to the desk.

“Um...” Kyle cringed with worry.

“Relax,” I assured him. I found a fuzzy chick Mom had set aside for the Easter display she was planning. I hid it in the cup of my hands. “Come see,” I crouched down. “You can take this with you, if you want to.”

Oliver ran straight at me. I braced myself for impact, but he braked in time. I made a big deal of slowly revealing it in my cupped hands.

“Why don’t you show your Grandpa? Be gentle. It’s just a baby.” I carefully transferred it into his cupped hands.

He was so enthralled, he hardly noticed as Kyle scooped him up. “Thanks.”

“Impressive.” Zak held the door for them, but hung back as they crossed into the antique shop. “Once Lance sees Ollie got a toy from here, though...”

“Can open, worms everywhere.” I plucked out a chick for the older boy.

“And Jade.” Zak kept his hand out.

“Good grief, Mom will charge me.” I forked over the last chick.

“What are you doing this weekend?” he asked, still holding the door.

The way his gaze flickered over me with speculation lit all sorts of unruly sparks of thought.

“I’m bringing Roddie to you so you can help him refinish his dresser.”

“Right. I didn’t forget. I was testing you.” He winced. He had definitely forgotten.

“After I take him home, I have to come back here to host a workshop. Perimenopause. Uterus owners only. Shelby should be at Mom’s by the time I get home from that.”

I tried to contain my excitement, but it was radiating from my smile. I couldn’t wait to spend time with my kids.

“That’s cool. You gonna bring her in here? Will I meet her?” He nodded toward the store.

“It’s spring break. She’ll be here all week, so yeah, I imagine she’ll want to see it.”

I glanced over my shoulder, suddenly apprehensive.

There was no good reason for me to be nervous. I wholeheartedly supported my daughter having complete agency over her sexuality. I’d told her how tampons worked and how to avoid STIs. This was just another angle on that same topic, but...

Whatever expression was on my face made Zak chuckle.

“Uncle Zak—” The door to Twice Is Nice opened with its habitual squeak and the clatter of the bell above it.

“And there he is. Talk to you later.” Zak slipped out to head off the eight-year-old before the boy could barge into this den of iniquity.