How to Charm a Beekeeper's Heart

by Candice Patterson

  He stared at the yellow blob. “What makes you think that?”

  She hooked a finger under his chin and guided his face toward hers. “Because you’re still here.”

  “Life is the flower for which love is the honey.”

  —Victor Hugo

  14

  He loved sports just as much as the next guy, but this was getting ridiculous. The term couch potato now held a personal meaning, only instead of a sofa it was a recliner. And the leather now held permanent butt indentions.

  Huck gazed at Emma through the living room window. That picture she’d given him had distracted him through most of the baseball game. Could Giada really have died because God wanted to teach him a lesson? If so, it wasn’t fair to her, or to her family. He didn’t want anything to do with a God like that.

  Emma sat on her blanket beneath a maple tree, arms wrapped around her legs, chin on her knees. She stared straight ahead. What could a kid that young be in such deep thought about?

  That’s when he noticed her frown, the draw of her forehead. Was she thinking about her dad?

  An image of himself, not much older than she, pushed its way into his mind. There’d been many days he’d sat alone, wishing his father—whoever he was—would show up on their trailer doorstep and take him away to a better life. To a home where people paid attention to him, told him they loved him, made him feel important. At least Emma had a mom who did those things. He’d had no one.

  A butterfly soared above Emma’s head and dipped as if deciding where to land. Oblivious, she rocked back and forth, pushing with her toes. His chest cracked like ice thawing in a frozen pond. Like him, a part of her was lost, searching for the piece she’d never find. Knowing a parent—or parents—didn’t want you disintegrated the soul. Little girls shouldn’t grow up jaded.

  He couldn’t fix the dad situation, but he could be her friend. It wouldn’t hurt to make the kid happy while they were here. Would it?

  ~*~

  Emma’s giggles erupted into the summer air. “Higher, Mommy, higher!”

  Arianne pushed harder. Her arms were getting a workout. “Just a few more minutes, and then I need to go inside and help the ladies in the kitchen.”

  Emma stopped pumping her legs and slowed to a stop. “All right, Mommy, I’ll slide instead.”

  Scooping her doll off the adjacent swing, Emma snuggled it close to her orange sundress and climbed the stairs to the top of the slide. Arianne sidestepped a small blanket strewn with plastic tea cups and fake cookies. An open bottle of bubbles sat in the grass, and she bent to screw on the lid.

  The aroma of grilling hamburgers caused her stomach to growl. Jude and his wife, Sherry, had orchestrated a cookout, along with two other beekeepers from their association. Huck had missed working his booths at the Lobster Festival in Winter Harbor and the Machias Blueberry Festival that kicked off the month of August. Since he couldn’t join the fun this year, the festivities had come to him.

  Arianne yanked opened the screen door and stepped into the kitchen. Sherry stirred pasta salad, while her mother, Janet, supervised. “Sorry it took me so long. Emma can’t get enough of that swing, and she hasn’t quite figured out how to do it herself yet. How can I help?”

  “No problem. They’re only little once.” Sherry glanced out the window with a wistful smile. “I brought some fresh lemonade. Could you get it for me?”

  “Sure.”

  Arianne retrieved the lemonade and set it on the table, along with the soda and a gallon of sweet tea. “I can’t believe Huck agreed to a swing set. It was generous of you both to lend us yours while we’re here. I’m sorry to hear your son and grandkids had to move out of state, though.”

  Janet lifted a shaky hand from the purse in her lap, which could easily be mistaken for a small suitcase, and tapped the buff-colored device in her ear. She leaned toward Arianne. “They didn’t lend you theirs. It’s still in the backyard. Huck bought that one.”

  Arianne frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  Sherry’s face blossomed to a dark pink. “Oh, Mother. You promised.”

  Janet shrugged her bony shoulders and returned her hand to her purse.

  Sherry rinsed off the rubber spatula and snapped the lid onto the bowl. She turned to Arianne and leaned an ample hip against the counter. “Huck didn’t want you to know, but he gave Jude the money last week and asked him to buy Emma a swing set.”

  Arianne’s mouth fell open. “Why didn’t he want me to know?”

  “You know how men are. Nothing they do makes sense. I told Jude if the truth came out, I wouldn’t deny it.”

  Arianne looked out the window at the group clustered on the patio. Huck sat in his wheelchair at the picnic table. The skin around his eyes and nose was no longer bruised. He threw his head back and laughed at something that Matt, his “little brother” said, calling his dimples into action. Was this grouchy, ex-football star really capable of such a gesture?

  Even Ebenezer Scrooge had a change of heart in the end.

  Huck never said a word the other day; he’d simply watched Emma run to the swing set before he’d gone to bed saying he was exhausted from his first day in therapy.

  Arianne would never figure him out. Though he was patient when answering Emma’s questions about the bees, Arianne saw the vacant look in his eyes when her loving daughter would do something special for him or when they spoke about God.

  “I can’t believe you were willing to move in and take care of him,” Janet said.

  “Mother! How could say such a thing?” Sherry’s cheeks darkened from pink to red.

  Janet stuck out her chin, jiggling the loose skin on her neck. “There’s something about that man that rubs me the wrong way.”

  Sherry waved a finger at her mother. “You said the same thing about Jude forty years ago.”

  “I still feel that way. The only man on earth worth having was your father.”

  Sherry rubbed her forehead. “You’ll have to forgive my mother, Arianne. She doesn’t have filters.”

  Janet shrugged again.

  Arianne swallowed her laughter. Though they teased mercilessly, their love for one another was evident. Would this be the kind of relationship she might’ve had with her mother, if she had lived? Arianne took the chair across from Janet. “We both had a need the other could fulfill. It hasn’t been easy, though. I’ll give you that.”

  Janet gasped in disdain. “The way women act these days is scandalous.”

  “She wasn’t referring to that, Mother.” Sherry glared at Janet. She tugged on a chair and plopped onto it. The wood groaned beneath her weight. “You’re not the easiest person to live with, either.”

  Sherry winked at Arianne. “There are days when I’m tempted to tape her lips closed.”

  Janet shoved her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. “After agonizing in labor for three straight days, this is the thanks I get. Well, I took care of you for twenty years. Now it’s your turn.”

  Sherry took her mother’s hand. “We love each other. We truly do.”

  Janet failed to hide the smile on her lips.

  “Tell me about your bridal shop.” Sherry released Janet’s hand and crossed her arms.

  Arianne made it sound as glamorous as she could without fibbing. “Things are falling into place. I’m working with a high-profile client who’ll bring in more revenue. I hope to relocate by spring.”

  Sherry patted Arianne’s hand. “I’m glad things are working out. I don’t think Pine Bay needed a bait and tackle shop…” Sherry winked. “But who am I to say? I’m just a woman.”

  Arianne opened a box of plastic utensils. “I don’t think Huck cares what goes into the building as long as the bridal shop moves out. I can’t decide which one he detests the most: me or the idea of marriage.”

  Sherry folded her hands. “In my long lifetime—”

  “Ha!” Janet interrupted.

  “Mother, behave.” Sherry scolded Janet with a look. “I’ve learned t
hat sometimes the things people are most opposed to are the things that scare them.”

  Janet nodded. The room grew silent as Sherry opened the napkins and stacked them in a perfect white cloud. “I’ve not spent much time around Huck, but I think he likes to pretend he’s impartial to people and things, when he’s really the opposite. The swing set proves that.”

  Janet placed her palm on the table. “Men aren’t good communicators. You’ve got to learn to read between the lines.”

  Arianne had never been good at that. Whenever she thought she knew what they were thinking, she’d been proven wrong.

  Jude came into the kitchen for a plate to put the cooked burgers on. As Sherry retrieved one from the cabinet, Jude gazed at his wife with longing in his eyes. The lovebirds shared a tender smile when Sherry handed him the plate, revealing secrets that made Arianne feel like an intruder. Would she ever know a love that special?

  When the food was ready, they gathered on the patio, and Arianne called Emma from the playground to eat. Jude swiped off his hat and hushed the crowd to say grace. Everyone linked hands, and Huck glared at hers before he captured it. Infuriating man. One minute he was delicate with her and the next he was repulsed.

  The evening passed with good food and laughter. Janet’s blueberry pie, baked with lemon juice, was to die for, and she refused to reveal the recipe, claiming it was an old family secret. Sherry leaned into Arianne’s ear. “The tapioca’s the secret,” she whispered. “I’ll send the recipe over with Jude next week.”

  After Matt’s mother picked him up and the other guests went home, Arianne swiped the sponge across the counter to clean off the crumbs. A breeze swept through the house, sending goose bumps over her arms. The overnight rain showers and cold front were moving in.

  She fetched a sweater from her closet and a sweatshirt for Emma. Her daughter sat in a swing, barely rocking her little feet. Her head rested against the plastic-coated chain. Tired eyes rolled open and closed.

  “Why don’t you come in and let me tuck you into bed. It’s been a long day.”

  Emma lifted her droopy eyelids. “I’m not tired.”

  Arianne laughed. “I think you are.”

  “I wanna sleep out here tonight.”

  “Well, you can’t sleep outside. You need to sleep in the nice, cozy bed with Mommy.”

  Emma shivered and gripped the chains tighter. “Will my swing set still be here in the morning?”

  Her daughter already knew too well how quickly treasures could be snatched away. “Yes, pumpkin, it will.”

  Grasping Arianne’s hand, Emma slid off the swing and dragged her feet into the house. After a quick bath and fresh pajamas, Emma was snoring on her pillow within seconds.

  The clock read eight when Arianne went outside to check on Huck. The air had cooled to somewhere in the low-sixties, and she wrapped her sweater tighter around her middle. She glanced around the yard. His wheelchair was parked by the footbridge. He stared at the setting sun reflecting off the water.

  What was going on in that mind of his? He’d barely spoken a word to her in two weeks, ever since she’d told him God had a plan for his life. The statement somehow triggered his shut-down mode. Now on Sundays he avoided her altogether.

  Grass rustled beneath her flip-flops as she moved closer. Birds chirped in the distance. Water lapped against the rocky edge of the inlet. If Huck was aware of her presence, he didn’t look up.

  She sank onto the cool grass beside him, pulled her legs close, and rested her chin on her knees. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder was a real and serious thing, but he refused to see any psychiatrist or counselor. What could she do to help him heal emotionally, now that his physical healing was underway? The grief in his eyes was sinking deeper and bitterness feasted on his heart in a visible way.

  If only he knew how much God loved him.

  Arianne plucked a blade of grass that stood taller than the others and twirled it between her fingers. Sitting together in silence, they seemed to communicate more than they had all week.

  ~*~

  Before the accident, Huck was content with his life. Then Giada died, and in came Arianne with her mini-me, talking about God, angels, and heaven. It was all he could think about, since thinking was all he could do. He questioned his entire life.

  If he had died in that wreck, there would be no one to leave his legacy to. That hurt. There was no one to go through his things and pick out a keepsake because he’d meant something. No family photos to sort. No one to stand beside his casket and say, “He was a good man. He’ll be missed.”

  Huck looked at Arianne sitting on the ground beside him and twirling a blade of grass between her fingers, innocent as a child. The setting sun glowed around her in a halo of light. All this talk about a higher power. He’d always brushed it off before, but what if he had died in that accident? Where would he be?

  If there was an afterlife, had he ruined his chances when Giada died? Where was she now?

  Arianne tilted her head and smiled at him. “Thank you for the swing set. I haven’t seen Emma this happy in a long time.”

  He turned back toward the water. “Don’t make a big deal out of it, Arianne. Jude didn’t want it anymore. He knew you were staying here, so he brought it over. That’s all there was to it.”

  “I just wanted to let you know that we’re grateful.” She stood and brushed her palms over her backside. “Jude brought some wood for a campfire, and I’ve got marshmallows. Would you like to join me?”

  Did he? It was either her, reruns on TV, or bed. He wasn’t tired yet. “Sure.”

  Arianne tossed the grass and pushed his wheelchair toward the fire pit. “Does it feel good to get outside?”

  “It does.” He sucked in a breath and caught the smell of rain in the air.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Sore. Sergeant Sandy worked me pretty hard yesterday.”

  “She must’ve. You never left your bed after you got home.”

  The doc said his fingers, nose, ribs, and collar bone had healed. Though he still had a cast on his arm, he was no longer confined to a sling. His right leg and hip had six weeks left, but he was getting stronger every day. By October, he should be able to start on crutches.

  As Arianne stacked the firewood in the metal ring, they argued over the best way to build a campfire. He was right, of course, but try telling her that. To his surprise, she got it going on the first try and looked to him for approval. He stared across the field. Beginner’s luck.

  She went inside and a few moments later returned with marshmallows, drinks, and blankets. When he declined the marshmallows, she handed him a one-pound bag of Reese’s Pieces she’d hidden beneath the blankets, along with a sweet smile as she spread the quilt across his lap.

  Hard to keep her at a distance when she knew how to get to him.

  The sky was dark, and Arianne sat in a lawn chair that she’d angled so the fire would allow her enough light to read. She wrapped her legs beneath the other blanket and opened her novel. Every other page, she rewarded herself with a marshmallow.

  She alternated between smiles and frowns as she read deeper into the story. Arianne had changed so much over the years. Yet she hadn’t. She still had a caring heart, still found joy in the little things. Still drove him unbearably crazy.

  With her chin tucked to her chest, Arianne gazed at him over her glasses and caught him staring. Try as he might, he couldn’t pull his gaze away. Firelight flickered off the side of her face. Desire swept through him. What would she do if he scooped her up in his arms, threw those hideous glasses into the fire, and kissed her until she couldn’t take anymore? Impossible to do when he couldn’t even walk over there.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Huck cleared his throat. “That sweater.”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “It looks like it came out of 1970.”

  “It did. It was my mother’s.”

  That triggered a memory he’d long forgotten. H
er in that same sweater sitting close to him at her dad’s kitchen table, books stacked around them. . .

  “Can we take a break, Arianne? My brain can’t handle any more laws and theorems.”

  “We’re running out of time. If you don’t pass your final—”

  “I will.” The alternative wasn’t an option. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Got anything to eat?”

  “If you’d quit thinking about your stomach, you might be able to comprehend Sir Isaac Newton.”

  “Studyin’ in a kitchen makes me hungry. Every time I look up, I see the fridge and wonder what’s in it.”

  She removed her glasses and rubbed her nose. “If I feed you, do you promise to work hard the rest of the evening?”

  With her glasses gone, the dark, vivid blue of her eyes was unmistakable. He’d never noticed how attractive she was before…in a geeky, librarian kind of way. “Promise.”

  Her chair screeched along the vinyl floor as she got up and rummaged through the cabinets. He grinned when she stood on tip-toe to reach them. After a few minutes, she shrugged and went to the freezer. “We have Hot Pockets.”

  “Does it have meat in it?”

  “Bacon.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  The cellophane crinkled as she opened the end. Then she placed it in the microwave. Her fingers poked the buttons. The machine’s whir was the only noise in the quiet house. Huck stood to stretch and walked to the fridge for a pop.

  “Want one?”

  She turned to see what he referred to. “Sure.”

  Huck grasped another can. He closed the door and a Polaroid of a pretty blonde with long, hippy hair caught his attention. Her smile was similar to Arianne’s, and she wore bellbottoms and a fringed vest over a tie-dyed shirt. “Is this your mom?”

  The microwave beeped, and Arianne pulled out the plate. “Uh-huh.” She carried the plate to the table and pushed his book aside. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.” He settled back onto his chair. It was hard to imagine her mother as a free spirit, when Arianne was so serious and structured. “Are your parents divorced?”