by Tracy Ewens
Mason didn’t move.
“I’m serious.”
“About Ella?”
He nodded and jumped down.
“No. I don’t need Ella. She’s nice, you’re right about that, but I’m fine. Happy with our life the way it is.”
“She likes our life too. Why can’t we like put our lives together?”
“Not sure it works that way.”
“I don’t get that. Look at Vienna and Thad. They’re full-on kissing and holding hands now. And you should start thinking about what you’re going to do when I go off to college. Brett, this guy in my history class, said his mom completely lost her mind when his older brother went to college.”
Boyd laughed. “That’s over four years away, and I’ll probably move to Tahiti and party.” They both climbed into the truck, and Boyd hoped Mason would pull out his phone as usual and get lost in showing him some new song or remix. He was willing to listen to anything if it meant the current conversation was over.
“Yeah? Cause you’re such a partier.”
“I’m fine, Mase. That’s enough of the single-dad intervention. I’m glad Ella is your friend and I’ll quit being a pain in the ass. Well, no I won’t, but you know what I mean.” He drew his son in and kissed him on the top of his head as they merged into traffic.
Boyd was a full-time dad by the time he was twenty-four. Claire had moved to Chicago and while she came to see Mason more back then than she did now, it was for weekend trips or vacations to visit her parents. He hadn’t thought about her parents in years, save the birthday and Christmas gifts they sent Mason every year with a card that read “OXOX Mimi and Pop.”
Glancing over at Mason now as he flipped through his phone looking for the perfect song, Boyd couldn’t remember if they’d told him to use those names or if Mason had called them that the handful of times they were together. Like Claire, Mason’s Mimi and Pop were far in the background by the time he was out of Pull-Ups and wielding a Spiderman toothbrush on his own. He supposed there was some “dysfunction,” as the books liked to call it, in Mason’s life, but it had never felt that way until recently. Boyd’s mom started going to Mason’s school for the Mother’s Day Breakfast by first grade. A couple of other kids brought their grandmothers. Hell, half his classmates’ parents were divorced.
Even though Boyd had grown up in a mom-and-dad family, he’d never seen that as the only way. In fact, it was probably his upbringing that led to Mason’s situation. He’d tried to make things work with Claire. He wanted both of them in Mason’s life full-time, but the day he showed her a couple of houses they could rent and she burst out crying, Boyd recognized there was only so much he could do. If she didn’t want a full-time life with him, with their son, he needed to at least stop short of begging.
When it all fell apart, he was happy to take his son if the choice was losing him to Chicago and whatever nanny Claire decided to hire. It made perfect sense to him that if he was the parent who was eager for dentist appointments and framing school pictures, he should be the parent who raised him. Like most things, it had all seemed perfectly natural until they went out into a world dominated by the “traditional family.” Boyd hated that phrase. Family for him was love and showing up. Those two things weren’t mutually exclusive to any combination of parents. He learned quickly that not everyone saw it that way.
Mason didn’t go to preschool. He spent most of his time strapped to Boyd’s back or toddling around their backyard. Boyd worked from home during the day doing freelance engineering projects at first. Mostly for architectural firms started by a few of the guys in his college fraternity. Once he figured out he would never be happy as an engineer, he started bartending at nights. Those were tough years because he was a zombie. He’d catch a few hours while Mason was in school, but there was laundry to do, dinner to buy, and eventually homework. At night while he was working, Boyd paid Aspen to stay over. They’d all gone to school with her and on the nights she wasn’t available, Boyd’s mom was more than happy to play rubber ducky with her only grandson and read him a bedtime story. It wasn’t perfect, he knew even back then, but it worked and eventually making a life for his son became a matter of routine.
“Here’s what you need to do,” Mason said, lowering the volume on a song that sounded like someone banging on a trash can. “Ask her on a date.”
Boyd wanted to exclaim, “Who?” and play dumb, but his son was smarter than most adults. He’d see right through his game.
“Say exactly what I tell you and I guarantee she’ll go out with you.”
Boyd laughed. “How can you guarantee something like that?”
“Because she taught me everything I know.”
“Everything?”
“About girls. Everything about girls. Peeing in the toilet and the rest of my life are yours, but she knows her stuff when it comes to girls.”
Boyd nodded as they turned into their driveway. “Help me unload these and then the backyard weeds are calling you.”
“I’m serious. It’s a quick phone call.”
“Maybe I don’t have her number.” Boyd released the straps on the kayaks.
“So, you do want to ask her out.”
“I didn’t say that.” Boyd handed down the boat and Mason carried it overhead into the garage.
“Didn’t have to,” he said as Boyd passed, lifting the second one onto his shoulder.
“I have an idea. Let’s crack open a couple of cold ones, go sit out on the porch, and I’ll talk you through this.”
Boyd shook his head and couldn’t help but laugh again. “Crack open a couple of cold ones? What is this, 1985? Where did you even hear that?”
“Gramp.”
“Figures.”
“Except usually we’re drinking root beer. I’d be up for a real beer if you’re in the mood.”
“Would you now?” Boyd nodded and once he saw the excitement in Mason’s eyes, he said, “Not a chance. How about water bottles and weeds instead?”
Mason shrugged. “Are you going to ask her out?”
“I thought life wasn’t all about girls.”
“It’s not. Ella is not a girl, Dad. She’s a woman.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Boyd cracked up.
He sat out on the patio and eventually helped Mason with the weeds. Ella Walters certainly was a woman. He could ask her out, but God that sounded so eighth grade.
Chapter Sixteen
Ella finished up a surprisingly exciting shift with a cup of hot coffee. She stepped outside the ER doors and watched the sun rise. Blue and peach, maybe purple too. It was lovely, and she wanted to hit pause and slow it down. Even though she was tired, it was Monday morning and once Dr. Campbell arrived, she would go home and ride the Freestone Loop. Driving into Petaluma on Saturday night, hearing the tinkling of the wind chime at her front door had done wonders to distance herself from the yuck of her family, but a bike ride was what she needed to fully gain perspective and wash away the feelings still churning in her stomach. The upside of the drama at the party and her late night return? She’d forgotten to think about Boyd until now.
Something about the wind on her face and the beauty of the sky reminded her of him. Was he up early? Looking at the same sky from his office or kitchen window? Did he have a window in his kitchen? Ella found if she loosened the reins on her heart, she craved him, which was silly. She hardly knew him. Maybe it was spending time with Mason or meeting the rest of his family that gave her an insight women rarely received outside the awkwardness of dating.
Finishing her coffee, she tossed the cup in the bin outside. The doors slid open and the air conditioning was particularly frigid after having the glow of the rising sun on her face.
Last night around midnight, a couple had rushed in and the woman, it turned out, was minutes away from delivering their first baby. After one or two questions, Ella had them whisked up to Labor and Delivery, where the woman gave birth to an eight-pound, six-ounce baby girl in the first fifteen minutes of a Monday
morning. Lucky little girl, Ella told Bri when she arrived for her shift with her typical Monday blues.
“Poor kid is what you mean. Good thing birthdays fall on different days of the week. Saving grace there.” She shivered. “Ugh, can you imagine every birthday being on a Monday?”
Ella laughed and handed Bri a wrapped box.
“What’s this?” Her eyes were wide.
“Open it.” Ella sat in the break room.
“I thought we were celebrating on Friday. You did this on purpose.”
“I thought maybe I could turn you into a Monday lover.”
“Knock, knock. I was told nonmedical people were allowed back here on birthdays.” Vienna stood in the doorway with two of her famous boxes.
“No fair, you too?”
Vienna nodded and set the boxes in front of Bri.
“Two?” she asked.
“One for now and one for later. I don’t think even you can handle cream cheese frosting before eight a.m.”
“Carrot cake?” Bri peeked in the box.
“Your favorite.” Vienna took the other chair at the table.
“That’s totally a morning cake. What’s in this one?” She opened the box. “Oh, sweet baby Jesus, can I get these every Monday?”
“Would that make Monday your favorite?”
“It would come pretty close.” Bri tilted the box and showed Ella four giant, still-warm cinnamon rolls. “Thank you, my dear baking friend. I love you.”
“Eh, it’s the cinnamon and the sugar talking.”
“Maybe a little.”
They laughed.
Bri opened the now-unwrapped box and pulled out Ella’s gift. It was a leather photo album embossed with Annie’s Auntie on the front. Bri ran her fingers over the letters and went in for the biggest hug Ella had ever endured.
After stepping out to quickly bring Dr. Campbell up to speed on the one patient still in Exam 3, Ella rejoined her friends in the break room to split one of the cinnamon rolls. That was all the birthday girl was willing to share. Bri, prompted by the gift, passed her phone around with the latest pictures of her sweet and “growing like a weed already” niece. The whole birthday celebration, complete with plastic spoons and paper towels for napkins, took less than a half hour and was packed with enough friendship and kindness to almost undo her parents’ extravagant anniversary. Almost.
After letting Bri get to work, Ella and Vienna walked to the parking lot together.
“You’re sure you’re all right checking on Pam while we’re gone?”
“I am more than sure. You’ll be gone a Tuesday and a Wednesday. Slower days, right?”
Vienna nodded, clicking her van open. She and Thad were taking a couple of days to visit his mom in Bodega Bay.
“Are you nervous?” Ella asked.
“About leaving my shop for the first time since I opened it, or meeting Thad’s mom?”
“Both?”
“Yes, yes to both.”
“Okay, well, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”
“Oh, I have thought of them all. Sift could burn to the ground or Thad’s mom could realize that their ginger son is dating a black woman.”
Ella laughed. “Let’s back up. I highly doubt that the guys who work for your ginger firefighter are going to let his girlfriend’s bakery burn down while he is out of town. I’d be surprised if they’re not circling the shop every couple of hours just in case.”
Vienna smiled that warm, in-love smile, and Ella found she was a bit envious this time.
“And the last worry is absurd. His mother already knows the color of your skin. She has seen pictures and if she’s half as smart as Thad and Aspen, she will recognize that your skin and your spirit are gorgeous. Her son is a lucky man.”
“Aw.” Vienna’s eyes welled. She set her bag inside her van and touched Ella’s hand. They both had cold hands. Too much washing, she decided.
“She does seem great. I guess it was cheap to say that. It will likely be my parents who will have the issue.” She rolled her eyes. “My father, that man is something.”
“That I can relate to.”
“Oh, right, how did your parents’ thing go?”
“Not talking about that. It’s a perfectly pleasant Monday and I’m going home for a long ride.”
“Over twenty miles?”
Ella nodded.
“All right, I will add your parents to the list of things we are not discussing.”
“Thank you.” Ella leaned forward and hugged her friend. It was a little hug, but Vienna noticed.
“To what do I owe the honor?”
“For being you. Have a safe trip, and I will see you Thursday.”
After another round of promises that Ella would call at even the slightest problem, Vienna drove off in her delivery van. Climbing into her car, Ella realized she had a text from Mason.
Maybe she should have thought more about giving him her number, but Mason was her friend now and she didn’t want him riding his bike to the hospital every time he had a question. This one was a good one. He wanted to ask Chloe out on a date and needed to know the best way to go about it. Ella was a little thrown that a thirteen-year-old would go on a date, but again, she knew nothing about teenagers. Maybe they were savvier now. She could call his father and let him know, but she wasn’t going to do that. It had been over a week now. She’d moved on. She did mention to Aspen that Mason texted her every now and then, hoping somehow that would make it through the brewery grapevine. Boyd was obviously avoiding her, which was silly, but Ella wasn’t exactly being an adult either.
She typed out three simple dating rules:
1. Write her a note to ask for the date. No texting or calling. Writing is romantic.
2. Offer to take her someplace that might not be your thing but someplace you know she’ll like.
3. Make a plan. Don’t tell her you want to hang out or you’ll play it by ear. Have a plan.
Smiling, Ella put her phone back in her bag and drove home for her bike.
Boyd’s phone vibrated on the seat next to him and when he saw Thad’s name on the screen, his heart sank. Mason was at school, so that meant one of his brothers did something stupid, and he hoped like hell they hadn’t burned down the brewery in the few hours he’d been gone. Why else would Thad be calling him?
“Hey, where are you?”
“On the 101 about twenty-five miles out. Why? What happened?” Boyd asked.
“Nothing. It’s barely noon. What could have happened?”
“Okay, then why are you calling me? Almost gave me a heart attack.”
“Ella was doing the Freestone Loop after her shift and some asshole knocked her into the shoulder. She fell off her bike. She’s okay, but her knees are banged up and the bike is toast. She called Vienna.”
“Why did Vienna call you?”
“Because we’re on our way to Bodega to hang with my mom for a couple of days.”
“Meeting Mrs. Pane. Wow, this is getting serious.”
“It is. I love her.”
Boyd couldn’t believe the ease with which those words came out of Thad’s mouth. Vienna had to be next to him in the truck. How the hell long could they have been dating, a couple months tops? He was already in love and happy as hell to blurt it out loud? Christ, Boyd couldn’t even manage a phone call for a date.
“Wow. Who’s going to be Cade’s wingman now?”
“I am, but different. This isn’t about me. I heard a rumor you were making a run to Clearlake for hops and I thought if you were out, you could get Ella?”
“That’s probably not a good idea.”
“Why not? You’re like what, ten minutes from her?”
“Yeah, but she’s not going to want to see me.”
“What the hell did you do?”
Boyd didn’t answer. He heard Vienna’s voice and knew she was filling Thad in. That meant Ella had talked to her friends, which meant he was officially an idiot.
“Okay,
so I guess you’re a schmuck. I’ll try Randy, he’s the new young guy down at the station. He knocks out more pull-ups than the rest of us combined. I’ll bet Ella would appreciate some alone time with him. Or you could quit tripping over your dick and hope playing hero will fix things.”
Thad had a way with words.
“Where is she?”
“Roblar and Stony Point.”
“Yeah, I’ll get her. Say hi to your mom for me.”
“Will do and thanks.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I'll let you know if I run into trouble.”
“You won’t. Enjoy.”
Enjoy? Bastard.
Boyd checked the bench of his truck, then threw the trash from breakfast and a pair of Mason’s cleats behind the seat. He lowered the radio and drove in silence for what felt like a crawl until he spotted Ella sitting on a rock right off Stony Point Road. She was in a tank top and bike shorts. Her skin glistened in the sunlight and she had not exaggerated, her knees were bloody and dirty. He pulled over.
“Thad said you needed a ride,” Boyd said, walking toward her and knowing full well hero was not in his skill set.
“I do. What are you doing here?” She didn’t seem happy to see him. Big shock.
“You called Vienna, Thad called me. Did you know he’s taking her on vacation to Bodega with his mom?”
“She’s one of my best friends. Of course I know. I thought they weren’t leaving until two.”
“I guess they left early.” Boyd put her bike in the back of his truck and extended a hand to help her stand. She reluctantly took it. It was so good to see her.
“What happened?”
“I got too close to the shoulder because a car got too close to me. I hit gravel and now I’m being… rescued, I guess, by some man who wants nothing to do with me.”
“I never said that.”
“I’m paraphrasing then. Can we go, please? Thank you for picking me up.”
Boyd helped her into his truck. Her elbow was scraped up pretty bad and while he pretended not to notice, her shorts were short.
“Why were you out here on a Monday? Doesn’t Mason have school?” she asked.
“He’s not homeschooled,” Boyd joked.