Hot Mess

by Emma Hart

  Elle set down the comb on a gentle laugh. “Of course it was. It was her first encounter with an Arabian culture, I’d imagine. Being curious doesn’t make her a racist, it makes her… well, a kid. Kids aren’t inherently racist, just like kids don’t hold naturally occurring prejudices or anything like that. Kids are what they’re taught to be.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Is that your professional opinion, Dr. Evans?”

  “I did tell you I had a degree in psychology. It’s not my fault I’m a genius.”

  “A genius. Really.”

  “Yep.” She lifted her lemonade and put the straw between her lips. “Graduated with a four-point-oh GPA, Summa Cum Laude.”

  “You can braid hair, you’re a genius, you’re loved all over the world—is there anything you can’t do?”

  “Yes, based on the last few days, I’m not that great at painting, I trip over doorframes, and I entertain a friendship with your conspiracy theorist great aunt.”

  “The last one is the most disturbing.”

  “Maybe I should put her on my channel. Could be quite entertaining.”

  “You should make them their own and charge them commission for filming and uploading. They’d pay you just to get their names out there.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “I am not filming them on a regular basis.”

  “It would keep them out of my hair.”

  “Ah, so your intentions are purely selfish.”

  “Hey, we can’t all be as perfect as you are.”

  She laughed, setting the lemonade down. “Oh, be quiet. You’re hardly a walking hot mess. I have the grace of a newborn giraffe with one leg.”

  “I might start taking bets for the next time you’re going to fall over,” I said. “Shall we go… in about an hour?”

  “Here’s a bet for you.” She showed me her middle finger.

  I walked over to her and curled it back into her fist, then slowly dropped her hand down. “Now, now.”

  “Now, now, what?”

  “That doesn’t help you with your grace thing.”

  “And you watched me try to clean paint out of my cleavage two days ago. I’m not really winning any points here.”

  I grinned and glanced down. “For what it’s worth, it looks like you got it all.”

  She moved to swat at my arm, but I was faster than her and caught her wrist. Before she could do anything about it, I tugged her to me, closing the distance between our bodies, and pressed my lips to hers.

  She squeaked in shock, but almost immediately she relaxed against me. I cupped the back of her neck with my hand to keep her against me, relishing the tartness of the lemonade on her lips.

  Elle moved onto tiptoes, kissing me back firmly. Heat wound its way through my body, and blood rushed to my cock. It was too damn soon for that to be getting its own ideas, so I pulled away before it ended up becoming too obvious.

  Judging by the smirk on her face, I hadn’t moved fast enough.

  “Oh, my God, I love her videos!” Ari came rushing in, and we jumped back from each other like we were on fire. She looked between us, confusion on her face.

  “Elle slipped. I caught her,” I said lamely.

  “Dad, I’m nine. I watch TV. People do that on TV when they’ve been kissing but they don’t want anyone to see. I know that.” She wrinkled her nose up. “Yuck.”

  Elle buried her face in her hands.

  “Goodnight.” With that, she left, muttering to herself about how gross kissing is.

  I laughed because that was not the reaction I’d been expecting.

  “So much for hiding anything from Ari,” Elle said, dropping her hands.

  “You’re right. Next time I feel the desire to kiss you, I’ll go and make sure she’s asleep first,” I replied dryly. “That won’t ruin the moment at all.”

  “Don’t worry. I promise I won’t move a muscle when you do.”

  “Smartarse.”

  ***

  I turned around and jumped at the sight of Ari standing in front of me, staring at me, completely expressionless. With her two braids and black outfit, she resembled Wednesday Addams a little too closely. “What have I told you about doing that?”

  “Doing what?”

  “Creeping up on people. It scares them.”

  “No, Dad, it scares you.”

  “Same thing.” I put the wine glass I was drying in the cupboard. “What’s up?”

  “Are you dating Elle?”

  I shook my head and answered honestly. “No.”

  “Do you want to date Elle?”

  “I’m not sure any of this is something you need to worry about right now, sweetheart,” I said softly.

  She hopped up onto one of the island stools. “Okay, but do you like her? Because she’s really nice, and you were mean to her when she got here.”

  “I was mean to her,” I admitted, putting down the towel and leaning on the island.

  “Why?”

  “Because I wasn’t sure if she was the kind of person you needed to be around, and I wanted to protect you in case she wasn’t who you thought she was.”

  She pursed her lips. “Because not everything you see on the internet is true, right?”

  I had no idea where this child got her brains from.

  “Exactly that.”

  “Elle told me that. When we made sandcastles.” Ari pulled an apple out of the fruit bowl and flicked the stem. “I said I wanted to be just like her when I grew up, and she told me all about the internet. About how it’s all not true.”

  She’d mentioned something like that last night when Elle was braiding her hair, but I hadn’t paid it much attention, but now…

  “What else did she say?”

  “She told me that sometimes she’ll film more than one video in a day. And she showed me Instagram and pointed out how people changed their pictures.”

  “Some people do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they want people to think they have the perfect life. A lot of the things Elle posts are like that, changed a little bit, because people expect specific things from her and she has to live up to that.”

  “Like when you go to McDonald’s and the fries aren’t always as crispy as they should be.”

  “Kind of like that. We complain about soggy chips, right?”

  “They’re fries, Dad.”

  “Whatever. Elle has to keep up an image because that’s what people expect.”

  “And that’s why you were mean to her.”

  “Yes,” I said ruefully. “That’s why I was mean to her. I didn’t know how different she was to what she put online, and I didn’t want you to meet her and be upset if she wasn’t nice.”

  “But she is nice. She’s my favorite person.”

  “She sure is, sweetheart. She’s a lot of very good things in one slightly clumsy package.”

  She played with the apple stalk until it broke loose. “I heard Aunt Blaire talking to Uncle Alex.”

  Shit.

  “She said she didn’t think you were telling Elle that you like her a lot because of me.”

  I walked around the island and spun her on the seat, crouching down to her level. “Arielle, every single decision I make is made with you in mind. You are the number one person in my life, and I will never make a decision that affects you without fully thinking through every single consequence, okay?”

  She nodded. “But I don’t mind, Dad. I like Elle, too. And if you want to kiss her, you should. Even if I think it’s yucky.”

  I smiled, cupping her cheek. “Well, that’s good to know, sweetheart. Thank you. But it is a little more complicated than that since she doesn’t live here.”

  “She could move.”

  “Again, it’s complicated, okay?”

  She sighed, but finally accepted what I was saying. “Okay. Can I go and see her today?”

  I hesitated. I didn’t really want her to go over there, but on the other hand, I really needed an hour.

&nbs
p; “Text her and ask her,” Ari said. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  At that, I grimaced. “I can’t text her.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t have her number.”

  “Why not?”

  I laughed, standing up. “Because I keep forgetting to ask for it. Oh, hey, Aunt Elsie left this box on the deck for you this morning. Do you know what it is?” I put the medium sized box on the island for her.

  “No. I haven’t seen it. Can we open it?” She moved so she was on her knees, and I sliced the tape with a knife.

  I pulled the box open and looked inside, then smiled.

  Damn it, Aunt Elsie. The box had a few packets of seeds—tomatoes, peas, peppers, strawberries—and two big trays with propagator lids to get them started.

  There was her apology for yesterday. I didn’t think the woman had ever said the word ‘sorry’ in her life, but she gave great gifts.

  “Dad, it’s seeds!” Ari gasped. “And pots! Look, tomato seeds! I told her when she was here I didn’t have any seeds. Can we do it? Can I ask Elle if she wants to help?”

  There was no getting out of it now.

  “Sure. Go run over there and ask if she wants to help you. She might be busy,” I warned her. “So she might say no.”

  “I know, Dad.” She grabbed the packets of seeds and ran to the doors, leaving just as suddenly as she’d appeared not too long ago.

  I sagged onto the island counter with a heavy sigh.

  I much preferred my life when the only women I had to worry about were Aunt Elsie, Maude, and Agnes.

  Worrying about Elle and all the confusion that came with her presence in my life, and in Arielle’s, was going to end one of two ways.

  A fairytale.

  Or a fucking nightmare.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – ELLE

  I looked up at the sound of incessant knocking at my patio doors. I was not at all surprised to see Ari there, her hair still in braids. The black outfit was a little different that the bright ones I’d seen her in so far, but it was slightly overcast today in comparison to all the other days.

  I held up a finger to indicate she had to wait for a minute and quickly rounded off my email to my publicist. After hitting send, I shut down the laptop and went to let Ari in.

  “Hey, you. What’s up?”

  She grinned. “Look what Aunt Elsie left me! Seeds! And pots! I already have some soil.”

  Right. Theo had mentioned something about that before.

  “Wow, they’re cool,” I said, taking the packets. “Tomatoes, strawberries, peppers, and peas. What a fun mix.”

  “Uh-huh, uh-huh.” She took them back. “I really want to plant them but Dad said he has to work so I asked if I could ask you if you weren’t busy and he said yes,” she said in one big breath.

  That was quite the run-on sentence.

  “Sure. I just finished sending some emails. I have a little time.”

  “Yay yay yay yay!” She jumped up and down on the deck, making it creak. “Okay! I’ll be right back!”

  She darted away, down the steps and onto the beach before I could even blink.

  Shaking my head, I went back inside and grabbed my phone.

  ME: Your daughter needs to come with a warning bell.

  The response was swift.

  THEO: Ah, finally, the elusive phone number.

  ME: I got bored waiting for you to ask.

  THEO: I kept getting distracted.

  ME: By what?

  THEO: By you.

  ME: Worst. Line. Ever.

  THEO: Worth a shot.

  THEO: Are you sure you don’t mind? I’m pretty sure it’s too late for them to fruit, but at least the strawberries will come back next year. And it keeps her out of trouble.

  ME: Arielle? In trouble? Surely not.

  THEO: You would be surprised. If you’re busy, tell her no. Don’t let her guilt you.

  ME: Oh, like you do, you mean?

  THEO: Yeah, but I signed up for that. You kind of stumbled upon it.

  ME: It’s fine. I promise.

  THEO: Ok. She’s loading up her little cart now and she’ll bring it to your front door with everything you need.

  ME: Any rules for babysitting?

  THEO: What, like no sugar? I’m sure you’ll listen if I tell you.

  ME: So let her eat a pint of ice cream while we plant. Got it, thanks!

  THEO: ELLE

  THEO: NO

  THEO: NO ICE CREAM

  THEO: OR SHE’S SLEEPING THERE TONIGHT

  ME: Will you come with her if she does? ;)

  I snorted and put my phone down to open the front door. Ari was there with a huge grin on her face and a little pink plastic cart behind her.

  “Your dad did not make you tug that compost over here, did he?”

  “It’s only a small bag. It’s not very heavy.”

  “Here. Let me get it.” I ushered her inside and pulled the little cart inside. “Let’s take this to the back and we’ll do it there so compost doesn’t go everywhere, okay?”

  “Yep!” She skipped through the house, leaving me to carry her beloved seeds and pots out.

  I took the cart all the way through the house and set it on the deck. “You get everything out and I’ll get some water, okay?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  I stopped for my phone on my way into the kitchen and opened Theo’s text.

  THEO: Depends. Do you snore? I’d hate to murder you before you’ve had a chance to find out that I am actually exceptionally charming.

  ME: I just snorted so hard I think I sent snot into my brain.

  THEO: I take it back, you’re the charming one.

  ME: I have tried to tell you that.

  ME: Your child is yelling at me. Gotta go.

  I grabbed two bottles from the fridge and glanced again at my phone when it flashed the new message signal.

  THEO: I know. I can hear her.

  Laughing, I left it inside and went out to Ari.

  “I can’t lift the soil.” She looked up at me forlornly.

  “I got it.” I handed her the bottles and picked it up, then gave the cart a gentle push with my foot so I could put the soil down in that space. “Do you have a trowel?”

  “What’s that?”

  That was a no. “A tiny spade to break the soil.”

  She shook her head.

  “Don’t worry, we can use a spoon.” I went back inside and grabbed a spoon and some scissors, and I also grabbed the old-looking Sharpie pen from the cutlery drawer so we could label the pots.

  Back on the deck, I used the scissors to cut open the soil, then got to work breaking up the compacted compost with a dessert spoon.

  It was not my finest hour, and it took absolutely forever. Luckily for me, I had a talkative child to keep me amused.

  “Elle, can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course you can, honey. What do you want to know?”

  “Do you like my dad?”

  I paused in my stabbing and blinked at her. “He’s a pretty great guy, yeah.”

  Slowly, she nodded.

  “Why? Is this because you saw us in the kitchen last night?”

  Ari sighed. “I heard Aunt Blaire tell Uncle Alex that she thinks the reason you won’t tell Dad you like him is because of me.”

  Now, I really stopped. “What do you mean?”

  “Because you’re worried about me.”

  “Okay, Ari, listen to me.” I reached over and took her hands in mine. “I like your dad very much. He’s a wonderful person, but my life is not that simple right now. I really, really don’t know if I’m staying in Creek Keys or not, and I would hate to make a promise I couldn’t keep.”

  “I know you don’t live here. But I really like having you here.”

  “And I really like being here, but I have a lot of things to work out.”

  “I wouldn’t mind if you kissed my dad. It’s yucky, but it’s okay.”

  I smiled. “Ok
ay.”

  “And if you wanted to stay and get married so you have to stay forever, that’s okay.”

  “How about we just stick with the tomatoes for now?”

  She sighed. “I suppose. But what if you’re not here to see them grow?”

  “Then I will give you my personal email address that is super duper secret and you can send me pictures every week. I promise.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Really?”

  “Of course. We’re friends now, right? That’s what friends do. They keep in contact with each other, no matter how far away they are.”

  “Okay.” She perked up at that. “Can we put the soil in now?”

  I nodded and handed her the spoon, but she shoved her hands right in the soil.

  That’s what friends do. They keep in contact with each other, no matter how far away they are.

  My own words echoed inside my head.

  I knew that. I knew that’s what real friends did. Yet, of all the people I classed as my friends who had my private email, not a single one of them had bothered to check up on me.

  In fact, none of them had said a word supporting me until it looked good for them.

  I knew the hashtag. I knew four people I considered my friends started I Stand With Elle. But they didn’t. Not a single one did—they all stood behind me until I was ready to stand up for myself.

  None of them stood up for me.

  And if you’re not willing to stand up for someone, you have no business standing with them.

  “Elle? Are you okay?” Ari looked at me, her head tilted to the side. “You look sad.”

  “Oh, I’m okay. Just thinking about something. So, how many pots are we filling?”

  “All of them!”

  I looked at the pots.

  We were going to be here a while.

  ***

  I sat on the back deck of the diner with Blaire while Theo and Alex chased the girls across the beach. Blaire had called me and demanded I come out for dinner, and I’d happily accepted, even though it meant a quiet moment of Adalyn freaking out that Elle Evans was coming for dinner.