Page 49 of The Rowdy Ones

After he helps me out of the cathedral, I go back to using my cane to lead the way. We don’t go back to the car, but instead walk down a sidewalk. This really is an adventure.

“I used to come here all the time when I was a kid. When I got older, I was too busy to come. But since you’re new here, I thought you’d like to give it a try.”

We come to the building and he instructs me there’s a wheelchair ramp or steps and that I can use whichever I feel more comfortable with. Since I need the practice, I go up the steps. I hear a tinkling of a small bell and then the scent of something decadent swirls around me.

“Welcome to Arnaud’s Confectionary,” a woman calls out. “If you like sweet over sour or sour over sweet, we don’t care, as long as you eat!”

“She’s never been here before,” Weston reveals. “First-timer.”

“Ahh, we do love us one of those,” the woman says cheerfully. “Arnaud’s has been around since the Great Depression. Dale Arnaud came up with clever candy recipes he could make inexpensively using ingredients local to town. In a time where people didn’t have much money to begin with, much less extra for sweets, Dale made sure it was accessible to as many people as he could. And he always gave everyone samples. That way, the people who couldn’t afford it could still have a taste. Just let me know if there’s something you want to try and I’ll get you a sampler cup going.”

I’ve never been in a candy store before, but Ronan read meCharlie and the Chocolate Factoryby Roald Dahl. I can’t help but imagine this place filled with treats made by Mr. Willy Wonka himself. Weston takes me along the display cases, describing each and every candy and telling me which are his favorites. He’s a really good guy and this is a fun adventure.

Once I’ve traveled the store twice and sampled enough that my stomach starts to hurt, he has the lady bag up my favorites. He even carries my bag for me while we walk back to the car. And when it’s time to leave, he stops me, a light finger on my jaw.

“Can I kiss you?”

I nod because I want him to.

His lips press to mine, and it’s sweet, like the candy.

But I can’t help but feel like it’s missing something.

After the adventure we just had, I’m disappointed and I don’t like myself for feeling that way.

Istare at my phone, watching the blinking purple dot as it moves closer and closer to our location. Now that I know how to use the tracking app, I’m addicted to watching Destiny’s movement.

Clinic, then St. Peter’s Cathedral, then Arnaud’s Confectionary, and then the long drive back to Wild’s.

Why is Weston taking her to those places? Is it another date?

“You okay, man?” Wild asks, looking up from his phone. “You’re pacing and it’s stressing me out.”

I abruptly stop beside the kitchen sink in the RV. I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who empties the sink. He makes a mess faster than I can clean it up. It’s full of dishes, mostly knives from cutting up fruit. Seeing the knives strewn about so carelessly is unnerving. I’d like to think Destiny is doing better, but the sharp objects lying around still worry me.

“Ready for her to be home already,” I say with a grunt.

“Now you know how we felt yesterday. At least you can see where she’s at. We had nothing.”

He’s going to guilt me about that shit until the end of time. “I told you I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m still mad, though.”

I set my phone down on the counter and begin washing up all the dishes to give me something to do. Did Wild use every knife in the kitchen? It distracts me long enough that I don’t even realize Destiny is back until the RV door opens and she steps inside.

Alone.

“Where is he?” I demand in greeting.

Her bright smile falters. “Hello to you too, Rowdy.”

Fuck.

I’m being a dick.

I can’t help it, though. When she’s out of my sight, it fucks with my head.

“Hi. Where’s Weston?”