by Lucy Score
“Gianna gets her bottle of wine and foot rub tonight. I got my quiet five-minute car ride.”
From the grin on his face, Eden gathered that Beckett was looking forward to giving that foot rub tonight.
She directed him to the gift table and started pouring waters in thick goblets that she’d chosen with clumsy kid hands in mind.
Guests began to trickle in. Girls in frilly pink, reluctant-looking boys, and of course Aurora herself. She arrived wearing a feather boa and a tutu worn over star leggings. Her red curls exploded off of her head in a display of independence that said, “No, I didn’t brush my hair for my own party.”
“Bucket!” Aurora skipped over to Beckett and launched herself at him.
“Shortcake!” Beckett hefted his stepdaughter into the air despite having seen her minutes ago.
Gia bustled in mother-henning four other kids and juggling baby Lydia on her hip. Evan, Aurora’s older brother, shuffled in with his hands in his pockets.
“Ready for the party?” Eden asked him brightly.
He sighed a worldly sigh for thirteen. “Family obligations.”
“Well, if your family obligations allow, there’s a library across the hall with absolutely zero eight-year-olds in it,” Eden told him, nudging him toward the doorway so he could see.
“Awesome.”
“This looks perfect, Eden,” Gia sighed, handing the baby off to Beckett who gave them each a kiss on the head.
“If Aurora’s happy, I’m happy.”
More guests arrived—including a reluctant Joey Pierce and her soon-to-be-adopted son Caleb. Joey helped herself to two cookies off the adult treat table and promised she’d help with crowd control as long as she wasn’t forced to play any dumb games.
Caleb ran over to a pretty little girl with black braids and hugged her.
“Jesus,” Joey sighed. “He’s his father’s son.” Joey was referring to her husband, Jax, an infamous flirt in his teenage years.
Eden busied herself making sure all the adults—there were few who actually stuck it out for kid birthday parties at this age—had refreshments. She stutter-stepped around kids and gifts on her way to the buffet when she spotted Davis dressed casually—why did he have to make jeans and a sweater look so effortlessly sexy?—standing in the doorway, his hand on a little boy’s shoulder. Davis had a child’s backpack slung over one shoulder. The boy was clutching a tablet and looking at the floor.
“Rubin!” Aurora called from the head of the table where she was blowing bubbles into her goblet of chocolate milk. She hopped off the chair and went to greet him. She bent at the waist to peer up into his face. “Remember? We look up, okay?”
Rubin bounced a little in his shoes and finally spared a glance upward.
“Good job,” Aurora said softly.
“Mama, Miss Eden, this is my friend Rubin. He has autism, and he doesn’t talk but has this cool tablet that talks in a robot voice for him. Say something cool, Rubin,” she prodded.
Rubin turned his attention to the tablet in his hands.
“Want cake,” the android voice announced.
“I can make that happen, Rubin,” Eden told him. He shuffled from foot to foot.
“Rubin, you’re supposta say ‘please,’” Aurora reminded him.
Another button push. “Please.”
“Come on. You can sit by me,” Aurora said, guiding her little friend to the table.
“Davis, you are my personal hero,” Gia sighed. “Eden, did you know that Davis is Rubin’s family’s inclusion mentor?”
A few years back, Blue Moon had started the Inclusion Committee. Where the Beautification Committee was an underhanded, ill-disguised matchmaking service, the Inclusion Committee served a real and lovely purpose. They worked to properly integrate new families into the Blue Moon community. The move was often a culture shock for new residents. And the town council wanted to make it a seamless transition by helping neighbors learn how best to make new families feel welcome.
“He actually volunteered to bring two kids that aren’t his to a kid birthday party so their parents could get a break. It’s swoon-worthy, isn’t it?” She elbowed Eden in the side.
Eden refused to take the Beautification Committee-laid bait and remained silent. If the B.C. wanted her and Davis to fall madly in love, well, they could retire waiting.
“Your daughter is my hero,” Davis countered. “Aurora’s class takes turns visiting the special kids program. She’s Rubin’s inclusion buddy at school. She takes him to art class with her.”
Eden made a mental note to add an extra layer of frosting to Aurora’s cupcake. If this was the kind of generation Blue Moon was raising, the world was going to be okay.
Davis pulled a folded piece of paper from his back pocket.
“Here are some of the highlights on Rubin and his sister, Claudia. She’s washing her hands.” Eden skimmed the paper which included the specifics of Rubin’s diagnosis, triggers, and likes and dislikes.
“When he gets overwhelmed, he starts ‘stimming’—self-stimulatory behavior,” Davis explained. “So we need to watch for hand flapping and pacing. Unfortunately, those are also symptoms of Rubin having a good time.”
Eden nodded. “Got it. Any dietary restrictions?”
“Gluten- and casein-free… and I just realized I should have told you that before showing up with a kid to a birthday party.” He smacked himself in the forehead.
“Gia has you covered,” Eden promised. “She sent a three-page write up on all of the dietary restrictions complete with recipes, and I made sure all the treats are gluten- and casein-free.”
Davis looked relieved. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” He looked down at his arm where Eden’s hand rested. She snatched it away.
“Davis! I haven’t finished telling you about the second season of Guess Again,” a lanky girl in striped leggings and a hoodie announced earnestly from the doorway.
“I was hoping we weren’t done yet, Claudia. Come here and meet Miss Eden first, and then we’ll talk all the game shows you want.”
“Just Guess Again,” she reminded him. “Not all game shows.” Reluctantly the girl sidled over.
“Miss Eden,” Davis began the introductions. “This is Rubin’s sister, Claudia. Claudia, this is Miss Eden.”
“Nice to meet you,” Claudia said flatly. “Now can we?”
Davis gave the girl a smile that made Eden’s heart roll over in her chest. “Sure.”
They wandered off in the direction of the snacks, Claudia peppering Davis with every known fact in the world about the game show.
“That one is a keeper,” Gia sighed after him. “Claudia is on the spectrum as well. She’s super smart but gets hung up on certain topics. Last year was that crazy video game that all the kids play. She can be a handful as well, just in a different way.”
“She seems really sweet,” Eden responded. “And Aurora is amazing with her brother.”
“A single guy who steps up for a family like that?” Gia continued. “If my ovaries weren’t already spoken for by that sexy hunk of man who just snuck a handful of candy into his pocket for Aurora later, they’d be in a hormonal uproar.”
Eden didn’t want to hear how amazing and wonderful and thoughtful Davis was. Certainly not from a Beautification Committee member. She preferred thinking of him as an undercover asshole and hated the fact that her up-close view of him this past week was showing her a different side to him. A side that meant maybe she’d been very wrong for all these years.
“What’s that about your ovaries?” Beckett asked, sliding his arms around his wife’s waist from behind.
“Davis,” Gia said, leaning back against him.
“Oh, right. Yeah, if I were into guys, I’d be into that,” Beckett agreed.
Eden laughed despite herself.
“Okay, who wants their nails painted?” Aurora called out, adjusting her tiara.
“Honey, maybe Lionel doesn’t want his nails painted,” Gia said
as Aurora oversaw the navy blue polish go on the seven-year-old boy’s fingernails.
“Mom, I went to Lionel's paintball and monster truck party last week,” Aurora pointed out.
“It’s only fair,” Lionel sighed with resignation.
Eden hid her laugh behind her hand. Aurora was going to grow up to be the first president of the universe someday. She was sure of it. She took a moment to re-stack the colorful napkins that had fallen into disarray during the cupcake decorating.
“Listen, I hope you don’t mind me crashing the party.” Davis stood to her left, a pink cupcake with glittery sprinkles in his hand.
“I was just surprised to see you,” she said lamely, adjusting the perfectly positioned veggie tray.
“It was a last-minute thing. Their parents just needed a break.”
“And you were the one to give it to them,” she said.
“Why do I get the feeling that this bothers you?” he asked. “And how long are you going to keep avoiding me?”
She dropped the napkins in a heap. “Look, Davis. I’m trying my hardest to continue intensely disliking you, and you’re not making it very easy.”
His lips quirked. “I’m not sorry about that. Don’t you think it’s time we moved on from high school?”
Eden raised her gaze to his. “Where would we go from here?”
He stepped in closer, his arm brushing hers. “I’d like to get to know you without the pitchforks and I Hate Davis Gates t-shirts.”
“I only wore that once.”
“To my graduation.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve been dazzled by my ability to scrub a toilet and make crepes,” Eden said lightly.
“Cards on the table? I’ve been dazzled by you since I was sixteen,” he said running a finger around the icing of his cupcake and bringing it to his mouth. “That hasn’t changed.”
“Have you been drinking?” Eden whispered, leaning in to smell his breath. This was not how she’d seen her day going.
“No,” Davis laughed. “I’ve been living under the same roof as you and it’s bringing everything back. I liked you a lot at seventeen and eighteen when you were badass. Enough to think about you all those years I was in California. But now? Seeing the woman you’ve become up close, I’m floored.”
“Davis…” Eden didn’t know what to say to that. There was a time in her history that those words from this man would have had her throwing her arms around his neck. Even now, hearing them plucked a heart string or two.
“You can’t deny the attraction.” He stepped in closer and like clockwork, Eden’s body revved at his proximity.
Flustered, she took a step back. “I’m working right now. I don’t have time to discuss this… this… whatever the hell this is.” She kept her voice low.
“I know I’ve thrown you for a loop,” Davis began.
“You haven’t done anything to me,” she said primly, despite the fact that her heart was climbing its way out of her throat. “I need to serve the tea.” She took another step back to put some distance between them.
“Davis. We have a problem,” Claudia said, appearing next to them. She pointed to her brother. Rubin was flapping his hands like a baby bird trying to take off.
“I’m on it,” Davis promised. He crossed to the boy who was by now in full-on distress.
Rubin dropped the tablet to the floor and covered his ears, rocking side to side. He wailed, fat tears running down his little cheeks.
Eden felt her heart break for him.
“It’s too loud,” Claudia yelled.
“Okay, buddy. Let’s get you out of here,” Davis said, making a move to pick him up.
“Hang on. I got this! Guys, we have to be quiet for Rubin,” Aurora announced, pushing her way into their little circle.
Rubin threw himself back onto the rug. Eden recalled the handout Davis had given her. Loud noises and bright lights, she thought. She flicked the switch turning the overhead lights off. Davis shot her a grateful look.
“What do we do?” a girl in a bright yellow dress with embroidered duckies on the skirt asked, leaning down.
Aurora shooed the kids back from Rubin. “Okay, people! Everybody be quiet and lay down!” She flopped down on the floor near Rubin and lay still. She gestured for the girl to do the same.
The other kids followed suit around the room. Eden looked at Davis, shrugged, and joined them. The floor was hard and cool beneath her. But Davis was warm beside her.
“We should probably hum something,” Aurora told them in a stage whisper. “Rubin likes music.”
A quiet argument about exactly what to hum ensued. Claudia finally won by insisting that since it was a birthday party, they should be humming “Happy Birthday.”
“We don’t have to worry about any litigious repercussions,” she whispered. “The copyright ended in 2016.”
The party guests began to hum, painfully out of tune. They sounded like a defective kazoo band.
“You know,” Eden lifted her head and whispered to Davis. “Believe it or not, this isn’t the first party I’ve been to that’s ended like this.”
He grinned at her.
She looked away, not sure she could withstand the affection she saw in his face, and noticed Rubin wasn’t crying anymore and Aurora was holding his hand.
Reaching over, Eden prodded Davis and pointed at the kids. She saw his lips lift at the side. And then his pinky finger was linking with hers on the rug. And she wasn’t stopping him. She just held her breath and then hummed along.
BEAUTIFICATION COMMITTEE GUIDELINES
SECTION 432 B: CLOSING THE DEAL
Committee members can and will be called upon to help matchees “close the deal.” The match is not officially successful until both matchees publicly agree that they are in a committed relationship. Matrimony is not a requirement for a match to be considered a success.
To help matchees to the finale (their happy lives together), the Beautification Committee’s resources—manpower, budget, and creative energies—can be deployed in any manner seen fit by the Beautification Committee president. This includes but is not limited to: providing support for grand gestures, obstacle removal, and the swaying of public or private opinion on any necessary matters.
19
The inn settled into shadows and whispers behind closed doors for the winter night. Davis found it oddly comforting to have people around. He hadn’t noticed how isolated he was tucked away behind the winery every night, his only companions the owls in the trees. Here at the Lunar Inn, there was a constant ebb and flow of people after dinners eaten and adventures had.
He was restless tonight. After Aurora’s birthday party, he’d worked late in his office fine-tuning the media kit for the spring wine trail events and scheduling for winter pruning. He’d have a hand in that as well. For him to do his job well, Davis needed to know every grape, every vine, and every step to vintage.
His mother and father had divided and conquered. She in the vineyard and he behind the desk. But there was only one of him. And only one of Eden, too. He wondered if she ever felt it. The loneliness of being in charge.
There was a scratch at his door. From the chair at the foot of the bed, Davis stared at the closed door wondering if—or was he willing—it was a certainly beautiful innkeeper on the other side. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a lanky brunette who scowled at him every time he entered the room. It was a short, fluffy blond. Chewy sat down in Davis’s open doorway and grumbled.
“What’s the matter, Sir Chewsalot?”
Eden stocked healthy dog treats in every guest room should her visitors be so inclined to feed the fluffy beasts that roamed the property and Davis handed over the requisite snack.
Chewy gobbled it up and looked over his shoulder down the hallway. “Do you need to go out?” Davis asked.
As if in understanding, the dog’s fat tail thumped on the hardwood.
“Are you allowed out at night?” He was having a conversation with a dog at 11:30 a
t night. He really needed to start dating again. Davis pocketed another dog treat just in case and let Chewy lead the way. Eden’s door was closed, which wasn’t unusual. But Chewy’s insistence that Davis follow him was.
He glanced down at his gray sweats and moccasins and shrugged. Everyone around here had seen him in much worse the last few days.
Chewy led the way down the hall stopping every few steps to make sure Davis was still behind him. Someone had obviously given the dog a complex. It was probably his sister, Vader. Davis had seen her chase Chewy around Eden’s huge dining table only to duck underneath with a satisfied doggy smile on her face while her brother continued his laps.
They entered the lobby at the center of the house, but instead of dancing at the front door as he’d seen the dog do every morning, Chewy trotted into the next wing, still casting apprehensive glances over his fluffy shoulder.
Davis followed him to the library. “You want me to read you a bedtime story?” he asked, stepping into the room.
“I can read all by myself, thanks.”
The dry voice coming from the direction of the fireplace startled him. Chewy, with a dopey smile on his furry face, hopped up on the window seat next to his sister. Their tails thumped in unison.
“Sorry for the interruption. Your dog insisted I follow him,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets.
Eden glanced around the wingback of her chair and sighed. “He likes to collect people at night and herd them into one room.”
One of the dogs let out a not-so-dainty snore. Eden shot them an affectionate look. Davis didn’t feel unwelcome, exactly, so he tested the waters, wandering down a long wall of book shelves. He heard her turn a page. A thriller jacket caught his eye, and he pulled the book from the shelf.
“You can stay if you promise not to talk,” she said without looking up from the binder she was studying.
Davis hid the curve of his lips. He crossed to the fireplace and dropped the book in the chair next to hers and held up a finger to her. She raised her eyebrows, and he left the room. He half-jogged the distance back to his room, collected what he needed, and was back at the library door only slightly out of breath.