Page 28 of Lovewell Lane (Honeyfield Dreamers #1)

Derek

“Slick will be home in a few hours,” Calliope read from her phone.

It was spring break, so I was graced with my youngest siblings being in town.

Jack was back at home with Tessa. He looked exhausted from driving down from Atlanta, and working at the bar seven days a week had aged him by about ten years, so I decided he needed a day with his best friend.

Calliope decided to come out with us to do a food delivery to a farmer’s market a couple of hours away.

Sam put down another box of broccoli into the truck and wiped his forehead off with the bottom of his shirt.

I grabbed two more to load onto the truck while Calli put down her phone and picked up her clipboard again.

Any time she brought out a clipboard, it meant the rest of us were going to be put to work.

“Okay, so, we have strawberry jelly, blueberry jelly, blackberry jelly, peach jelly, pickles, pickled peaches, one flavor of every cider, peach ice cream, and strawberry ice cream.” She took in a deep breath and double-checked her list. “Any other processed goods we want to bring to the Festival?”

I continued carrying boxes and looked over at her. “That should be all, we’ll have baskets of flowers and then fresh produce on top of everything.”

“Margo will take care of baked goods, right? Are we supplying her with our produce?” Calli asked.

“We already do, yeah,” Sam answered. “We should probably discuss at the town hall how many tickets have been sold, so we can make a more accurate estimate for how much to bring. I’m sure Margo will be wondering the same.”

I let out a sigh. Margo should be at her diner right now. Probably cleaning up after the lunch rush. Our new routine was killing me.

On mornings that I worked at the store, we would wave to each other as I walked in.

Every lunch I’d walk over, and she’d wordlessly make me try some new sandwich combination she was working on.

She always got home at eight o’clock and would leave a bag at the back door filled with whatever baked goods they didn’t sell and a small note with messy handwriting labeled ‘From: Fairies’ for Tessa.

Then, minutes later, we would go out for our nightly farm chores, and Tessa would make sure to invite Margo to join us. Most nights, she accepted the invitation, and we both spent that time interacting with Tessa and not much with each other.

The ball was in her court.

I made it clear that if we were going to continue this relationship, it was on her terms. And I only wanted it if she was all in. With our power dynamic, there was no shot in hell I was going to push myself on her. I had no interest in being some creep asking her to date me for rent money.

And she seemed to not be interested. At least, in that aspect of our relationship. Which I told myself was fine. As many times as I needed to. Which was a lot.

I was losing my fucking mind.

The few interactions we had every day placated me enough to not act like a complete moron.

If she was just right out ignoring me, I’m sure I would’ve broken and resorted to leaving her flowers, standing outside her window with a boombox, or writing her love letters.

Hell, I was already close to doing those things.

But I was a man of my word, and despite the constant thinking of her, I wouldn’t push her to give me any answers. Not yet, anyway.

“You forgot to close the cab, loverboy,” Sam teased. He slammed the back of the truck closed while smirking at me.

Calli, always the nosey little sister, stood glaring at us suspiciously by the passenger side door. “Loverboy?”

“Anytime anyone mentions Margo’s name he zones out like this,” Sam said. He waved his palm back and forth in front of my face, only for me to catch it and squeeze his hand as hard as I could. “Fuck, ease up, I’m only joking.”

He wasn’t joking, and we both knew it.

I dropped his hand and walked around to the driver’s side door. One of our field workers injured his knee and still wanted to work today, so we had him cover the farm store. I was especially irritable because that meant I missed out on seeing Margo all fucking day.

My siblings were the ones who wanted to do a delivery together. If it was just Sam, I would’ve said no, but I loved my baby sister and wanted to hear all about how her college life was going.

So, we all piled in the truck. And I resolved myself not to think about Margo.

-

“Daddy,” Tessa yelled. She jumped down from the couch— where she and Jack were watching Spongebob, to run into my arms.

“Hey, honey. You and Jack have fun?”

She grabbed my hand and dragged me to the dining room table. “I drew you a picture.”

I looked at the picture made up of slightly more advanced stick figures than I could draw. I sat down on a chair and pulled her into my lap, so we could look at it together.

“I’m guessing this is me,” I pointed to the tallest stick figure of the bunch.

“Mhm, and that’s Grandaddy.” Her fingers, which were covered in what I guessed to be strawberries, pointed to a figure next to mine with glasses on.

“And this must be Jack.” She nodded. Jack’s figure had angry eyebrows, but a smile on its face. “And Calli and Sam and you.”

There was one figure left. “Who is this?” The last stick figure had long yellow hair and a giant smile on its face while standing directly next to me.

“Margo,” my daughter said with a giant smile.

Fucking hell. I went three hours without thinking about her. “Oh, that’s nice.”

Tessa looked at the drawing and frowned. “I forgot Uncle Andy.”

“That’s okay, you can draw him in now. I see a spot right here.”

Right then, the front door slammed open, and Slick entered the house with a scruffy face and a massive grin. “Grandad!”

Tessa’s drawing was quickly abandoned. All of the Westons gathered around my kitchen island as I cooked and everyone debriefed on what had gone down in their lives over the last few months. Except me. I busied myself with making dinner while Tessa helped.

Andy walked through the door a little bit later and dropped a bottle of wine and a bottle of apple juice on the counter.

He always made sure Tessa felt included.

Slick patted him on the back and welcomed him into the fold while Tessa looked at me with puppy dog eyes, which told me she wanted apple juice now .

“Should we invite Margo?” Sam asked as we were setting the table.

I scoffed. “She’ll still be at the restaurant.”

“So, you’re keeping tabs on her then.”

“It’s a small town.”

Slick looked very interested in our conversation from his seat at the kitchen island. “Have those two gotten together yet?” He directed the question at Sam.

“Not yet, Derek is still torturing himself for some reason.”

I smacked the back of Sam’s neck as subtly as I could and leaned down to his ear. “Not in front of Tessa,” I growled through gritted teeth.

Sam must have seen how serious I was from the look on my face and took it to heart because Margo wasn’t brought up another time during dinner.

“Slick, meet any new friends out in Alaska?” Andy asked before taking another swig of wine.

My father set down his fork. “Oh did I, but that story isn’t for when tiny ears are around.”

He looked pointedly at Tessa, and I cringed. I didn’t want that story to be for my ears either. Wanting to change the topic as quickly as possible to avoid any thinly veiled innuendos, I turned to Jack.

“How’s Atlanta? Thinking of coming back home anytime soon?” I asked.

He shrugged. I was never much of a talker, but Jack was as a kid. No one knew when the switch happened, but now I had competition for least interested in a conversation.

“Not right now,” he muttered.

Calliope nudged his elbow. “I think he has a girlfriend that he’s hiding from us.”

Sam leaned in. “No way, he’d have to talk to a woman for that to happen.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Andy added. “Some women apparently like the mysterious personality type. The less you say, the better.”

I didn’t like that his eyes flashed to me as he said it.

“I’m not seeing anyone,” Jack said, quickly putting the conversation to a close. “What about you, Andy? I haven’t seen you with anyone in years.”

My best friend rolled his eyes and found something very interesting in his plate of food. “All of our love lives suck,” Calli said. “I think that’s clear to see.”

“Speak for yourself,” Slick muttered.

“Gross, Dad!” Calli exclaimed. A few groans sounded around the table.

“I love Daddy,” added Tessa, helpfully. I leaned over and gave her a side hug in her seat.

“Thanks, honey,” I muttered. “At least the town is doing better. There are a lot more tourists in town so far this spring. Bodes well for the Festival.”

Calli nodded happily. “Aren’t you so glad you decided to have a little faith and agreed to participate?”

“I said it was doing better. Not a sure-fire success. Jury’s still out on that one, kid.”

I wasn’t sure Margo’s secret recipe for bringing in newcomers could even make a dent there. Last year the Honey Festival brought in a whopping one hundred people. Which, safe to say, was not enough to cover all of our expenses for putting the damn thing on.

The closer the Festival got, the more unsettled I felt. Usually, the mayor would give us numbers by now estimating how many people would show. His radio silence on that front could only be seen as a bad omen.