Ask Me Why(24)

“Miss Braelyn?” Ollie’s soft question halts my retreat.

I cough to cover my sniffling. “Yes, sweetie?”

His hands are knotted in front of him. “You said yes? I can stay with you?”

“Of course. I’m excited to hang out, just the two of us.”

He squeals and begins bouncing around in circles. “Me too!”

Brance chuckles and pats Ollie’s head. “Don’t get too wild. You’ll scare Braelyn off.”

Ollie whips around to face me. “Is that true?”

“Never! We can have a dance party once your dad leaves.” I bop up and down, testing out my moves. Ollie laughs. Brance frowns. I’m calling it a win.

Brance glances at his watch. “Okay, I’ve gotta go.” He kneels and grips Ollie’s shoulders. The love flowing between them is so obvious. My chest squeezes so tight it could snap a rib.

“Love you, buddy.” He kisses Ollie’s forehead.

Oh, the butterflies are getting a workout tonight.

“Love you the mostest, Daddy. See you soon,” Ollie replies.

“Behave for Braelyn,” he orders. They exchange a look, saying so much without uttering another word.

Brance stands, nodding at me. “Thanks for this. I really appreciate it, even though it doesn’t seem that way.”

I shrug. “I got you. Go be lawyerly.”

That earns me a laugh. “Will do.” He takes one last look at his son and turns for the door. A calm silence follows, the dense atmosphere instantly easing up. I release a long exhale, thankful to have survived with minimal damage.

Ollie slips his hand into mine. “What’re we gonna do?”

I tap my chin. “How about I close Thicket early and we go somewhere special?”

His eyes sparkle. “Yes! Let’s do that.”

“Do you like ice cream?” I tease.

Ollie begins vibrating in place. “It’s my favorite!”

“Then I have a super surprise for you.”





Braelyn



Sprinkles



It doesn’t take more than twenty minutes to shut Thicket down for the day. Ollie is patient as can be, following me between aisles to tidy up and straighten the shelves. I never thought having a partner in cleanup crime could be so entertaining. He talks nonstop about anything that pops into his brain. The retelling of his favorite cartoon episodes is my favorite. On top of that, he’s a great little worker. I’m already considering future dates where he can hang around and lend a helpful hand. I’m sure he’d accept candy as payment.

I walk to the front with Ollie hot on my heels. His quick and uneven footsteps make the sweetest sound. I’m practically skipping, my mood higher than it’s been in a long time. Having his company adds a shimmery twinkle to my vision and makes everything vibrant.

The realization stops me short. I shouldn’t get attached. Brance already made that clear. But as I glance at Ollie over my shoulder, I already know it’s too late.

With a roll of my neck, I shove those worries away. There’s no room for troubles in this space. I grab my purse from under the register, switch off the open sign, and move to set the alarm.

“How do you remember all this stuff?” Ollie stops beside me, watching my fingers on the keypad.

I smile down at him. “It’s a routine. I follow it every day except for Sunday.”

“Because you’re closed,” he grumbles.

“Ah, yes. You found that out last weekend, huh?”

Ollie’s frown is impressive. “I had to get regular candy instead.”

“I’m sorry, buddy. From now on, I’ll give you more on Saturday to last until Monday.”

That turns his lips right-side up. “That’s a good deal.”

I stick out my hand. “We can even shake on it.”

He giggles, fitting his smaller palm into mine. “A taffy promise.”

“Those are the best. Now, let’s take this party next door.” I guide him outside and lock up.

“I’m so excited,” Ollie squeaks.

“Me too. This is where I get lunch most days. Everyone is very nice. They’ll love you.” I doubt my assurance is needed. Ollie has the confidence of a Hollywood A-lister.

We’re on the sidewalk for all of one minute before I’m steering him into Dapper Diner. “Here we are,” I sing-song.

Ollie is quiet next to me, absorbing the bustling restaurant spread out before us. Pictures of customers, old and new, decorate every available inch of wall space. The checkered floor leads to an open floor plan dotted with tables and booths. There’s a crowd already gathering, over half of the red vinyl seats occupied. Servers navigate the maze to drop off drinks and heaping plates. The dinner rush is in full swing. I inhale the aroma of being welcomed home. Today it smells like the pulled pork Wednesday special.

A long and narrow countertop separates the dining area from the kitchen. I point to the row of short stools with a front-row view of the talented cooks. “Those are the best seats in the house. You get to watch all the action.”

Ollie is nodding before I finish. “I wanna sit there.”

I let him choose a spot smack-dab in the middle. He hops up with ease and settles in like a regular. I follow suit, pleased as punch with this decision. Babysitting was a chore when my sister was little. Is that what this is? Doesn’t feel like it. If anything, kid-sitting is more appropriate.