Candy Crush

by Amelia C. Adams

  The corners of the sheriff’s mouth twitched. “You realize that I don’t have a legal exception for ‘horribly romantic,’ right? That’s not how the law works.”

  “Yes, but I can hope, right?” Whitney gave him a cheesy grin.

  The sheriff shook his head. “If my wife were here, she’d be begging me to let you off the hook. There are reasons why I’m glad she’s not a police officer—nothing would ever get done.” He exhaled. “All right, this is what we’ll do. Oz, I’m giving you a warning. If you break any other traffic laws over the course of the next twelve months, you will get a ticket, and it will be a pretty steep one. Can I trust you?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  “All right.” The sheriff slid his notebook back into his pocket. “Now, why don’t I grab one of your roses while I’m here, Whitney? It’s been a little while since I surprised my wife, and I’m sure she’d think it was horribly romantic.”

  Whitney grinned as she held up a perfect red rose. “What about this one?”

  “Great. In a vase, please.”

  As soon as the sheriff left, his flower in hand, Whitney turned to Oz. “You have to tell me everything! I didn’t know all that!”

  Oz shrugged. “It was pretty much like the sheriff said. I didn’t realize I was going to get turned in for it.”

  “As your employer, I can’t condone your behavior, but I kinda have to say, that was awesome.” She grinned again. “I love having a driver who will risk getting arrested to make sure the flowers are delivered on time.”

  “It’s just that whole rain and sleet and dark of night thing. How does that go again?”

  She tilted her head. “Are you trying to quote the U.S. Postal Service creed?”

  “Maybe?” He wasn’t sure.

  She turned to the computer. “This is why we have the Google. Let’s see. Here we go. ‘Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.’"

  “Yeah. That should apply to floral deliveries too. And should include grumpy mothers.”

  “Hmm.” Whitney was still reading. “Did you know that’s actually not an official motto or creed of the post office?”

  “It’s not? Then what is it?”

  “It’s just a thing they say. Well, rats. I’m all disappointed now. You need to tell me about your date and cheer me up.”

  Oz leaned on the counter. “Shouldn’t you be making arrangements or something?”

  “Talk to me while I work.”

  “Okay, but it wasn’t a real date.”

  She shook her head while she put a daisy into the vase she’d placed in front of her. “You agreed upon a time to meet. That, by definition, is a date.”

  “Fine. It was a date. We went over to the dining room and talked for a while, and it was good. We cleared the air—turns out, she thought I knew my brother was a cheater, so she’s been mad at me this whole time.”

  He held up his hands when Whitney waggled her florist knife at him. “I swear, I didn’t know.”

  “Good. Because then I’d have to be mad at you too.” She turned back to her vase. “So, did the zingy thing come back? I must hear about the zingy thing.”

  “It didn’t come back full force, but the potential is there.”

  “And when are you seeing her again?”

  “Tonight. If the sheriff doesn’t arrest me first, that is.” Oz shook his head, feeling his ears heat up a little. “I can’t believe that woman turned me in. Makes me wonder what her daughter’s boyfriend did to set her off so badly.”

  “Maybe he’s a cheater too,” Whitney suggested.

  “His name wasn’t Cam, was it?” Oz said with a chuckle.

  “Nope, but wouldn’t it be wild if it was? You went through all that to deliver flowers to your brother’s new girlfriend? I’ve got to tell Kaya about this and see if she wants to use it in one of her books. Or maybe that would bug her—I’m sure people are always trying to give her book ideas that she doesn’t want.” Whitney stepped back, looked over her arrangement, and then started inserting tree fern here and there. Oz was learning more names of more plants than he’d ever wanted to know.

  “Well, whoever this guy is, I hope he treats her right. I mean, if I’m going to get ticketed because of his flowers, he’d better be sincere about them.”

  “If you get ticketed, it will be because of your own choices,” Whitney said, pointing a piece of fern at him. “I’m almost done with this. Why don’t you load the others into the van while I’m finishing up?”

  “Yes, Mom,” Oz replied, and she stuck her tongue out at him. He chuckled while he checked the list of that morning’s deliveries. None were farther way than Riston—it looked like a pretty calm route. Nothing unusual at all—nothing, that is, but the pretty blonde he could see changing out the window display in the general store across the street. He might have to push her out of his mind once or twice if he expected to get his work done.

  Chapter Five

  Oz finished his deliveries quickly, texted Whitney to see what else was up, and decided to grab some lunch before heading out again. He ate the daily special at the diner and was walking back toward the floral shop when he saw Jaclyn hurrying toward him dressed in a puffy coat and carrying a small bundle.

  “Hello, Jaclyn,” he greeted her. She was one of his favorite people on the ranch—she lived life according to her own rules and didn’t let anyone tell her who she ought to be. “How are you today?”

  “I’m a little bit rumpled, but I’m doing my best to overcome it,” she said.

  “Rumpled? What do you mean?”

  She sighed. “You know, it’s a long story, and it’s cold out here. Come have some tea with me, and we’ll discuss it. Don’t worry—you have some time before Whitney will start missing you.”

  Oz followed Jaclyn to her house, a little place that marked the entrance to the ranch’s RV park. As always, he was amused by the garden gnomes that dotted her lawn.

  “Well now,” Jaclyn said once they were seated in her living room. “This is for you.” She held out the bundle she’d been carrying and he took it, almost dropping it when it started to move. It was a little gray rabbit wrapped up in a baby blanket.

  “Uh, Jaclyn? This is a rabbit,” he said, trying to hold on to it.

  “I always knew you were a bright boy.” She beamed at him as she took off her coat.

  “What I mean is, why are you giving me one of your rabbits? You said it was for me, right?”

  “I did, and believe me, it wasn’t my idea. You know how they get sometimes.”

  “The fairies?”

  “Yes. But we’re not on speaking terms right now because of it, so I refuse to say their names.”

  Oz managed to situate the rabbit under his arm, and it calmed down and stopped trying to get away. “Can we start at the beginning? I’m confused.”

  “Well, you’re not the only one.” Jaclyn leaned forward and poured them each a cup of tea from the tray she’d had sitting on the table when they entered. “All I know is that I woke up this morning with the directive to give Hershel to you. That’s Hershel,” she said unnecessarily, nodding to the bundle tucked under Oz’s elbow. “He’s my only Jewish rabbit.”

  Oz took the cup of tea without comment. He really had no response.

  “I’ve never given one of my rabbits away. Ever.” She wagged a finger at him. “But they were most insistent. For whatever reason, Hershel is supposed to be yours. He’s fully housebroken—he did take a little longer to train than the others, but now he uses a litterbox, so you won’t have to cut tail holes out of his diapers for him.”

  “Tail holes?”

  “Yes, of course, but you won’t have to worry about that.” She sipped her tea.

  Oz looked down at the rabbit. “Um, why am I supposed to have him?”

  “Because he’s meant to be yours. Trust me—he’ll be good for you. Rabbits just are. I believe in my heart
that everyone should have a rabbit. Can you imagine if all the leaders of the world were to sit down and pet a rabbit before they went into their meetings to decide what countries to invade next? It would be a much better place—don’t you think?”

  “I can agree with that,” Oz replied. He couldn’t picture someone directing a missile attack after a bunny snuggle session. The two things were diametrically opposed.

  “I’ve written out for you all his favorite foods and his favorite activities. He enjoys playing hide and seek on Tuesday afternoons. He’s extremely good at it, just so you know—you’ll have to be very creative in your hiding spots. And he’s fond of watching the evening news.”

  “Jaclyn, you seem upset about losing him. Are you sure you don’t want to keep him? I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Oz said. He didn’t want her to be sad, but he also wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with a rabbit. Well, aside from playing hide and seek and watching the news.

  “I’m quite sure. I learned a long time ago not to go against what they say, even if I don’t understand it. Hershel is yours, and we’ll see what good things come of it. Now, on to other things.” Jaclyn brightened. “I understand that you and Alicia are old friends.”

  “Yes, we are,” Oz said.

  “And possibly a little more?”

  “Possibly, but I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

  “Ah! Two words I love to hear.” She clasped her hands together.

  Oz was even more confused now. “Excuse me?”

  “Whenever someone says ‘It’s complicated,’ I know that things are happening just as they should. Life is about conflict, you see, and couples must go through a certain amount of conflict before their feelings for each other can be proven. It’s through the conflict that the worth of the thing is determined, you see.”

  “It makes you appreciate it more?”

  “Exactly. I knew I liked you.” She sat back and scrutinized him. “You’re smarter than you look.”

  He chuckled. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment.”

  “It’s neither a compliment or an insult. I’m calling you out, boy. You’re more than you appear to be.”

  “Maybe sometimes. Does that really matter?”

  “No, because I know you’re not an international criminal on the lam. Your secrets aren’t dangerous ones, so I’ll let them be. But now, back to relationships and their conflicts. Yes, conflicts make us fight harder and appreciate more. We also tend to feel more responsible for things we’ve fought for, yes? We should always feel responsible in our relationships. They’re not things to be piffled about. Tell me. Do you know how the rabbits came to River’s End Ranch?”

  Oz blinked at the change of subject. “No, I don’t.”

  “There’s a love story if ever there was one.” Jaclyn’s eyes became dreamy. “One summer many, many years ago, a family came to stay at the ranch, and the daughter brought her pet rabbit with her. This was my first summer here, so I’m not about to tell you how long ago it was—stop looking curious. Well, she put the rabbit’s cage in the window of their cabin, and one day, a wild rabbit was hopping by and he caught sight of that beautiful doe in the window. Girl rabbits are does and boy rabbits are bucks, so stop looking confused.

  “Every day, that wild rabbit came back, and he would sit and stare at her. And she would sit and stare at him. I don’t know if they had some way of communicating—maybe they’d twitch their noses in Morse Code or something—but somehow, they fell in love. And when it was time for the family to leave, both rabbits were devastated. Neither one could bear the thought of being separated.”

  Oz was dying to know how Jaclyn knew all this, but decided it was best to keep his mouth shut.

  “As the little girl was carrying her rabbit’s cage out to their car, the girl rabbit made a frantic leap against the door, and the cage popped open. She jumped out and ran into his waiting paws, and they ran off into the woods together. The girl and her parents searched and searched, but they finally had to give it up as a lost cause. And then the little baby rabbits started to show up here and there, and they’ve been here ever since. If you ask me, that’s the story they should be telling with the TV show. The Westons’ story is good, but the rabbits’ story? That one really melts hearts.”

  Oz nodded. “I can see that.” Agreement was often the best way to handle these conversations.

  “I’m sorry—we got a bit off track. About you and Alicia. You’ll be all right. Just keep talking, and everything will be fine.”

  “Do you mean we’ll end up together?” Jaclyn was known as the matchmaker of these parts, and he was curious to see what she had to say, but this didn’t seem like a whole lot of advice.

  “Is that what you want?”

  “I . . . I don’t know.”

  “Well, if you don’t know what you want, that makes things a bit murky, doesn’t it?” Jaclyn shook her head. “You’d best be on your way. Take good care of Hershel. Here are his instructions.” She handed over a piece of paper. “And when you decide what you want, pop back in. That would be a good mental exercise, I believe.”

  Thirty seconds later, Oz was standing on Jaclyn’s porch, holding a rabbit in a baby blanket, trying to figure out what had just happened. And pretty sure he wasn’t going to get an answer.

  ***

  “So, there I am, driving back to my apartment, balancing a rabbit on my lap, and I have to stop in at the pet store to grab a litter box, right? And then I remembered that I’d never told Whitney where I was going, so I called her from the pet store parking lot to tell her I was going litter box shopping for a house-trained Jewish rabbit named Hershel, and I’d come back in as soon as I could.”

  Alicia was laughing so hard, her stomach hurt. That was one thing she’d always loved about Oz—he could really tell a story. “How does she know the rabbit is Jewish?”

  “I have no idea. And I don’t know why a Jewish rabbit is such a perfect fit for me—I’m a Protestant when I’m anything.” Oz took a sip of his water, then set his glass back down on the table. They’d chosen to come to the Golden Palace in Riston for dinner, but they’d been laughing so hard, they’d hardly touched their food.

  Alicia picked up an egg roll and bit into it. “I think it’s sweet that Jaclyn has taken such a shine to you,” she said after she’d swallowed. “Not everyone’s that lucky.”

  “I’m trying to decide if this is luck or some kind of terrible, terrible curse,” Oz replied. “I’m now the owner of a Jewish rabbit. You tell me.”

  She laughed again, then wiped her eyes. “I’m sure everything will work out. Things just do whenever Jaclyn is involved, however crazy it might seem. Maybe the rabbit will save your life someday.”

  Oz raised an eyebrow. “Just how, exactly, could a rabbit save my life?”

  “I don’t know. But with Jaclyn, anything’s possible.”

  “I’m a little worried about one thing,” Oz said after he took a bite. “Well, a number of things, but this one thing in particular. She’s not speaking to the fairies right now because they told her to give Hershel to me. What if this causes some kind of permanent rift? I feel guilty for taking him—what if she and the fairies never speak to each other again, and it’s all my fault?”

  Alicia waved a hand. “Don’t worry. She and the fairies have had their little disputes before. Not as many as they’ve had with the gnomes, but that’s neither here nor there. They’ll make up, and everything will be fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He looked genuinely concerned, and that made Alicia’s heart melt a little bit. How many guys would be this worried over a little old lady and her delusions? Of course, there was no evidence that she really was having delusions—it might all be real, as far as Alicia was concerned—but the fact that Oz was even asking about it said a lot for him. “I’m sure. And if things do keep going south, you can bring Hershel to the ranch for visits. Now, tell me how he likes your place.”

  Oz grinned. “Well, I took him
in and set him down, and he immediately started sniffing everything. I got his litter box set up and I put out some food and water, and I also found an old blanket in the back of the closet. Then I had to leave again. He’ll either greet me with a home-cooked dinner when I get home, or I’ll find droppings everywhere. Want to place a bet?”

  Alicia laughed. “I imagine that Jaclyn raises very polite rabbits. I don’t think he’ll leave droppings everywhere.”

  “But if he’s nervous in a new place . . .”

  “Why don’t we go to your house after dinner and check on him?” Alicia suggested. “I don’t think you’ll relax until you’ve made sure he’s all right, and I’d love to meet him.”

  Oz shook his head, looking sheepish. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ve been sitting here worried that he managed to cook himself on the radiator or something.”

  “Why don’t we ask Lin to bring us some takeout boxes and we’ll eat at your place, then? No point in sitting around here when we’d both rather leave.”

  He reached across the table and touched her hand. “Thanks for understanding. You’re great—you know that?”

  “Well, I’m glad you think so,” she said jokingly, even though her heart was beating a million times a minute. If they were supposed to be friends—and just friends—he’d need to stop looking at her with that smolder in his eyes. It wasn’t fair.

  Lin was happy to help them box up their food. They carried it to his car and drove over to his place. Alicia held his food while he opened the door—neither one of them wanted Hershel to come bounding out and get lost, so he opened it slowly, ready to catch a streaking furry thing if need be. Hershel just looked up from his blanket in the corner, completely unconcerned, when they came in.

  “Oh, he’s adorable,” Alicia said, setting down the food and kneeling next to the blanket. She reached out and scratched behind his ears. “He’s so soft.”

  “I Googled him, and I think he’s part Rex.” Oz sat down on the closest chair. “I don’t see droppings anywhere.”