Lovebird Café Box Set

by Dylann Crush

  “I get it. The wildfires have been especially bad this year.”

  “Right.” The conversation lapsed. Then she turned to face me. “What are you doing here?”

  “Rodney. He’s my nephew. Sounds like they might have gotten in trouble together.”

  “Wait, your nephew is the kid who’s been bullying Liam since we moved here?”

  “Rodney?” I frowned. “No. I can’t believe that. My mom would tan his hide if he was bullying anyone.”

  She shifted forward on her chair, her eyes taking on a hint of hardness. “Well, he is. I’ve been working with Liam on how to handle him, but it’s obviously not working.”

  “Hold on a minute.” I put my palms out. “Let’s not jump to conclusions here.”

  Harmony stood, knocking her purse off her lap. Papers spilled onto the floor. Glass tubes rolled under the row of chairs. “Shoot. Now look at what you made me do.”

  “Hey, that was about as much my fault as your kid getting caught shooting off fireworks.”

  She glared at me as she crouched down to pick up her stuff. Oh hell. I bent down to help, our fingers closing around the same dark vial. She pulled back like she was afraid of catching something by touching me.

  “Here.” I handed her the bottle. “What is this stuff?”

  “My oils. This one’s the lavender oil I put on your burn.” She tucked it into her bag. “I’m sorry for over reacting. This whole thing with Liam has me rattled.”

  “No problem. I get it.”

  She nudged her chin toward where my hands rested in my lap. “How’s that feeling, by the way?”

  I flexed my hand. “Great. All healed up. Can’t even tell.”

  “You know, I was thinking.”

  “Uh oh.”

  Her brow furrowed. “What makes you think that’s a bad thing?”

  “Gut instinct?”

  “You always listen to your gut?”

  “Hey, it hasn’t failed me yet. Now go on, tell me what’s been rattling around in your brain since you left me on the floor of the garage.”

  Her cheeks tinged a light shade of pink. Every time she blushed, it hit me right in the gut. Something about seeing her slightly out of her comfort zone made my mouth curl into a grin.

  “If you’ll recall, it was your fault you ended up on the garage floor. You didn’t tell me you were injured.”

  “Aw, just a couple of bruised ribs.”

  “Broken?”

  “Nah, just a little cracked.” This time. That hadn’t been the case the last time I took a tumble though. I’d spent a couple of weeks in the hospital after surgery for a broken femur and a repair on a punctured lung from a broken rib.

  “Cracked is broken.”

  “No, cracked is manageable. At least until a good lookin’ woman tries to split my ribs in two.”

  “Well, if you’d told me you had an injury, I would have been gentler with you.”

  “Is that how you like it? Gentle?”

  “Oh my gosh.” Her cheeks turned a darker shade of pink. “What’s wrong with you?”

  I let out a laugh. “I don’t know. You tend to bring out the worst in me, I think.”

  “Great.” She settled in the chair, clamping her hands over her middle and focusing straight ahead.

  “I’m sorry. Tell me what you’ve been thinking. I really want to know.” I did, too. She had me curious. The fact she’d been thinking about me at all made me a little tingly inside.

  “I was wondering if you’d be open to me trying some oils or a mud pack on your ribs and shoulder.” She twisted to face me again. “It could help with the muscle soreness.”

  “I’m not one for experimental treatments.” That was somewhat of a lie. I’d been open to acupuncture when I’d slipped a disc in my lower back a few years ago. It had been the only thing that gave me any kind of relief from the pain.

  “It’s not experimental. A little alternative, maybe. But people have been using home remedies and nature’s resources long before they started using all the synthetic drugs.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know.” I flexed my hand again. Although, if her woo-woo oils had done such a quick job of healing my hand, maybe they’d get me patched up in time for that doctor to give me the go ahead. I didn’t want to go out on a botched burnout.

  “Y’all can go back now.” The woman from the desk returned and motioned for us to follow her.

  “Think about it?” Harmony asked.

  “You got it. Now let’s go find out what those boys were doing.” I gestured for her to go ahead of me. Not only did it earn me points for being a gentleman, it also gave me a chance to appreciate the sway of her hips as she followed the sheriff’s secretary to the back of the building.

  My attention shifted as we entered the sheriff’s office. Rodney sat next to another kid, both of them covered in dirt and ashes. Harmony immediately crouched in front of the kid I assumed was her son, leaving me to deal with my nephew. Suddenly I had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to do.

  12

  Harmony

  “What happened? Honey, are you okay?”

  Liam pushed my hands away and sat up straighter in his chair. “Mom, I’m fine. Is that Dustin Jarrett?” His eyes grew wide. “Can I meet him?”

  “Now doesn’t seem like the time.” I ran my fingers over his cheeks, smoothing his hair back, checking him for signs of injury.

  “Seriously,” Liam muttered under his breath, “you’re embarrassing me.”

  “I’m embarrassing you?” I stood, clamped my hands to my hips and leveled my son with my best mama bear death glare.

  He squirmed in his seat.

  “I’m embarrassing you?” I raised my voice a notch. “I come home to find Sheriff Sampson in my driveway saying my son has been arrested for illegal activity, and suddenly you’re the one who’s embarrassed?”

  “We weren’t technically arrested…” Rodney began.

  I turned my gaze on him. Evidently mama bear death glare worked on other peoples’ kids, too.

  “If you could take a seat.” The sheriff gestured to two empty chairs.

  I took in a calming breath. In and out. In and out.

  “Mrs. Rogers, it’s nice to see you again.” He reached a hand across the desk.

  I slid my hand into his, making sure to grip tight. “I wish I could say the same. Maybe under different circumstances.”

  Sheriff Sampson cleared his throat. “Yes, well, we all know boys can be boys.” He glanced to Dustin, like he wanted back up on that.

  Dustin held his hand out to the sheriff. “Good to see you again, Turner.”

  Of course he knew the sheriff. Everyone knew everyone around here. Everyone but me. Feeling at a slight disadvantage, I tried to bring the conversation back to what my son had been doing with fireworks.

  “Can you tell me what happened?” I asked.

  “I’d like the boys to give their version of events, if that’s okay with you.” Sheriff Sampson gestured to Rodney. “Why don’t you go first?”

  Rodney slid his gaze to me and then to his uncle. “The guys and I were down at Miller’s Landing, just minding our own business—”

  “Bullcrap!” Liam exploded out of his chair. “That’s not the way it went down at all.”

  “Liam Allistair Rogers, sit down right now.” I jumped to my feet.

  “Allistair?” Rodney snickered.

  Before I could turn my fiery glare on him, Dustin had yanked his nephew out of the chair by his shirt front. “You got something to say about that Rodney Walloby Jarrett?”

  Walloby? What kind of middle name was that? For a moment, the two boys glared at each other. Then Liam broke the silence by laughing. Not a snicker, but a full-on, deep-from-the-belly laugh.

  Rodney joined him, the two of them howling, doubled over in fits of laughter as Dustin, the sheriff, and I looked on.

  “What the hell is this?” Dustin asked.

  “Seems in addition to finding the fireworks, the
boys also found a sizable stash of weed,” Sheriff Sampson said.

  “Oh my God, he’s stoned?” I bounced my gaze back and forth from Liam to the sheriff to Rodney to Dustin. “My son is high?”

  “I’m afraid so.” The sheriff stood behind the desk. “I’m not sure we’re going to get anywhere today. Why don’t you take the boys home and we’ll reconvene tomorrow so we can talk this through?”

  “You’re just going to let them go?” I struggled to make sense of the situation. “What about consequences?”

  “I have a feeling you’re going to be more than fair with distributing justice, Mrs. Rogers.” He rounded the desk, leading with a beer belly that some of the guys down at the café would be mighty jealous of. “Why don’t you bring the boys in after school tomorrow? We’ll figure out a way they can make up for their actions then?”

  “That sounds good.” Dustin shook the sheriff’s hand.

  Sheriff Sampson let go of Dustin’s hand then took mine. “Have a good night.”

  I nodded, temporarily out of words.

  We left single file, snaking through the crowded office until we finally made it outside and into the sun. How could the sun be shining so bright? How could the smell of honeysuckle float past me on the breeze? My son had not only set off illegal fireworks…stolen illegal fireworks…but he was also high as a kite.

  I wrapped my hand around his arm. “Let’s go, Liam.”

  He giggled. “Mr. Jarrett, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m a huge fan.”

  Dustin’s lips split into a grin. “Thanks.”

  “Can I have your autograph?” Liam wrenched his arm out of my grip as he moved toward Dustin.

  “Let’s do that next time.” Dustin turned Liam to face the truck and gave him a gentle nudge.

  Liam doubled over laughing. That wouldn’t last long. As soon as we got in the truck I planned on making sure he didn’t have anything to laugh about for a good, long while.

  “Harmony?” Dustin followed me. “Are you okay?”

  “Okay? No, I’m not okay. Liam may have gotten into trouble back home, but nothing like this. When I’m done with him, he’s going to wish he’d—”

  “Hey.” Dustin interrupted me. “Let’s let them tell their side before we go administering the consequences, okay?”

  “You handle your nephew how you see fit. I imagine you’ll clap him on the back and congratulate him for corrupting my son.”

  “Look, I know you’re upset. But that’s not fair.”

  Those green eyes asked for forgiveness. Maybe not forgiveness, but they did seem to beg for me to put my emotions aside and handle things in a reasonable adult manner. I wasn’t sure I could handle acting like an adult right now, but I’d try for adult-ish.

  “Fine. It’s not fair. I’m thinking in reptile brain right now.”

  His eyebrows lifted, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. “Reptile brain?”

  “Yes. Emotion brain. When a person gets overwhelmed it’s easy to sink into their reptilian brain, the part they use to react.” I waited for some dawning acknowledgment. “Fight or flight? You ever heard of that before?”

  “Like that ‘go’ moment before I kick off into a stunt. Instinct takes over. Is that what you mean?”

  Maybe. Not really. “I need to get Liam home. Can we talk about this later?”

  “Sure. For what it’s worth, I don’t know what happened, but I’m sorry—I’ll see if I can get Rodney to tell me his side of things when he…when he’s back to feeling normal.”

  At that moment Rodney popped his head out of the passenger side window. “Oh my God. I just realized. Dude, your last name is Rogers.”

  I looked to Liam who sat in the front seat, stuffing his face with a bag of fiery Cheetos he’d left in the truck the day before. “Yeah, so what?”

  Rodney leaned out the window. “That makes you Mr. Rogers.” Then he erupted into a fit of snorty, high-pitched giggles, much more appropriate for a six-year-old little girl.

  Dustin stepped in front of the window, backing up and forcing his nephew to retreat back inside his truck. He bit back a smile. “Sorry about that.”

  I blinked, a long, slow, blink—a last-ditch effort to try to make the whole situation fade away. Just erase it like it hadn’t happened at all. But then Dustin cleared his throat, distracting me, pulling me back to the unfortunate present.

  “Talk to you later, Harmony.”

  Jaw clenched, I nodded. He gave me one last smile then rounded his truck, climbed in, and backed out of the parking spot.

  I stood still, watching them go, wondering how a situation like this would be handled at the Jarrett home front. Would they chalk it up to “boys being boys” like the sheriff suggested? Or would Rodney’s mother be just as appalled as I was that her son would be capable of such a thing? Granted, I wasn’t totally against the healing powers of a natural substance like marijuana and had recommended CBD oil for several of my clients who struggled with chronic pain. I’d even been known to partake once or twice in the past. For crying out loud, I wore Birks and hailed from California. But laws were laws and I wouldn’t have my underage son taking matters into his own hands, no matter what.

  Liam dangled the empty Cheetos bag out the window. “Hey, Ma. Can we stop at the store on the way home? My stomach is grumbling.”

  “That’s not the only thing that will be grumbling by the time I get done with you.” Defeated, I shook my head and made my way to the door. Maybe we should have stayed in California. Liam had been bullied, but had never sunk to breaking the law.

  As I climbed behind the wheel, my son leaned over the center console to put his head on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

  My heart stretched, shaking off the anger and disappointment. He was a good kid. We all made bad choices from time to time but I had to believe I’d done the best I could to raise him right.

  I smoothed his hair with my hand. “I know, kiddo.”

  Then he grinned up at me, orange powder dusting his lips. “Mr. Rogers. That’s funny, huh?” Then he hummed a few bars of the song I knew so well from watching episodes of the original Mr. Rogers as a kid. “Won’t you be my neighbor?”

  He let out a huge laugh, followed by a snort, followed by a stream of neon orange puke. All over my lap and the front seat of the truck.

  Karma needed to get her act together, and soon. Because right now life was being a real bitch.

  13

  Dustin

  The next day I sat outside the middle school, waiting for Rodney so we could go talk to Sheriff Sampson again. I hadn’t seen or spoken to Harmony since I’d pulled out of the parking lot yesterday. She’d been a whole lot of pissed off then, and I figured it would be best to give her space.

  Scarlett and I had sat on the porch swing last night, well after the sun had set and the stars popped out. She couldn’t make it today since she had to work, but we’d come up with a plan to pitch to Sheriff Sampson, one that would absolve me from the guilt I felt at not being part of the family for the past several years, and hopefully make things right for Harmony. I wasn’t sure why it seemed so important for me to get back on her good side. Maybe because that woo-woo shit she’d tried with me seemed to make a difference. Even though the massage had been short, she’d worked on a few knots under my shoulder blade and it hadn’t felt this good since my late night appearance.

  The sight of Rodney sauntering out of the front doors of school cut my thoughts short. He had his backpack slung over one shoulder and walked down the steps like he owned them. Poor kid had no idea what a tragic, uncool future he had ahead of him, assuming the sheriff and Harmony agreed to my plan.

  Ten minutes later we sat in the same molded plastic chairs as the day before. The air was on the fritz so all the windows were open. Metal mini-blinds banged together in an irregular pattern as the warm, afternoon breeze came through the windows. A bead of sweat rolled down my spine, between my shoulder blades and then lower, all the way to dip inside my
jeans.

  Hell, if we didn’t get to this soon, I might have to reschedule. Rodney sat next to me, punching buttons on his phone, oblivious to the precarious situation he’d soon find himself in. With a crash, the door to the office flew open, banging into the fake wood paneling behind it.

  Harmony came in, her kid in tow. He looked rough, like he’d been run over by a combine that turned around and took another swipe at him. She nudged him toward a seat and he slid down into it. She gently closed the door then took the seat opposite me in the small waiting area.

  “Running late?” I asked.

  “I had to feed the raccoons.” She didn’t look at me as she answered. Probably still blamed me somehow for what happened the day before.

  “I thought you were taking them to the wildlife rehab place?”

  “We were. But they’re closed on Sundays. So we’re stuck with them until I can find a time to run them up there on Saturday or during the weekday hours of nine to five.”

  Before I had a chance to reply, Sheriff Sampson entered the waiting area.

  “You’re all here. Should we head back to my office?” He motioned for us to follow. The four of us crammed into the already sweltering space. A tiny window didn’t let in much fresh air. The sheriff turned an oscillating fan on his desk to face us. “Sorry about the air. Hopefully we’ll have it fixed soon.”

  Rodney brushed his hair from his face. I squeezed in next to him while Harmony took the seat beside me. She was close enough the sides of our thighs brushed. Despite the heat, a chill ran down my spine at the contact. Something about her set me off kilter. She must have noticed. Her chair scraped along the linoleum as she scooted it a few inches away.

  “Well, boys,” the sheriff said. “Now that you’ve had some time to, well, let’s say, cool down, can you tell me what happened yesterday?”

  “It was his fault.” Rodney jerked his head toward Liam. “He dared me to shoot off one of the fireworks.”