I swallowed. I didn’t want to ruin things for sweet Parrish. If Ava thought for one minute that Parrish and I had anything going between us—which of course we did not. Not.—then it would ruin any chances he’d have at meeting a nice man in town. But at the same time, I didn’t want to lie and say I didn’t know him. Chances were, someone might see us together at any number of meetings or hearings. Plus… I kind of wanted him to come to Splash Park Tuesdays with me. If he wanted to, that was.
“Doesn’t everyone know Parrish?” I asked, pulling the door to the house open.
As soon as I entered the house, I came to an abrupt stop. I’d forgotten the giant Kinder-potamus gift basket was still front and center on the living room floor. Marigold had been using it to throw her new toys into. It was overflowing with all of the adorable baby things Parrish had picked out for her. I swallowed around a nervous lump in my throat.
“Hm,” she said, stepping around me and patting little Beau’s back where she’d tossed him against her shoulder. The boy was still dead asleep and drooling. Of course his nosy mother’s eyes went straight to the basket of evidence on the floor. Before I had a chance to stammer out an explanation, Ava turned to me with a big, sunny smile.
“You’re coming to the Lickin’ Pickin’ with us tomorrow. I insist.”
I had whiplash from the subject change, but then again, I was relieved as all hell she hadn’t mentioned Parrish again.
“I can’t,” I tried. “I have plans.”
She poked me gently on the nose like I was a child. “Of course you do, big guy. Plans with Paul, Beau, and me to pick some apples. Don’t you think Marigold deserves to be shown off amongst the Thicketeers? Don’t you think she needs to bond with the town who’s going to love and support her during her formative years?”
I studied the manipulative, conniving beauty in front of me and then finally let out a sigh of defeat. “You’re good. I haven’t had a guilt trip like that in a very long time.”
She flounced toward the kitchen. “Honey, you don’t even know the half of it yet.”
7
Parrish
“And you shoulda seen the way Dunn Johnson ripped that crankbait through the coontail!”
Tucker Wright’s laughter rang through the grassy, tree-ringed picnic area where he’d laid out our checkered blanket, and mingled with the excited chatter of dozens of other folks hanging out in this section of the English Family Apple Orchard. “There he was, right? Standing on the riverbank, bracing himself like he’s gonna pull in the motherlode, like he’s caught the granddaddy bass that’s gonna be in his Facebook profile picture for all the rest of his born days…”
Tucker doubled over for a second, laughing so hard he wheezed. “And he’s yellin’ at me, ‘Tuck, wade on in with the net! Tuck, this is the one. Tuck, we’re gonna need more batter to fry this puppy! Tuck, get in there!’” Tucker broke off with a chuckling sigh and a fond head shake. “Turned out the idiot had hooked himself a plastic Kroger bag and about half a ton of coontail, and we ate ham sandwiches for dinner.” He wiped his eyes and sniffled a little. “But if you hear him tell the story, that was exactly what he meant to do all along. That’s Dunn Johnson for you.”
“Yeah, he really sounds great,” I agreed, leaning back on my hands so I could stretch my legs out in front of me and tip my face toward the sun. “If I didn’t believe it after the story where Dunn caught the runaway heifer, or the time he made a Pride flag crop circle for you in his back pasture, these fishing stories would’ve really sealed the deal!”
Tucker shot me a side-eyed look, and his mouth curved up on one side. He pushed the ice in his soda cup around with his straw. “I don’t know why I’m rattling on. I invited you here today so we could get to know one another, not to talk about my friend Dunn, of all people.”
“Nonsense! It’s fine,” I assured him. “It’s a beautiful day, and it’s nice sitting here, listening to your stories.”
Tucker’s eyes were warm on my face. “You’re kind of a glass-half-full person, aren’t you? I like that about you.” He reached out a hand to cover mine on the blanket. “I like a lot of things about you, Parrish.”
I immediately sat up and reached for my own soda cup. “Sweet Methuselah on buttered toast, that sun is tryna fry us, huh?” I slurped at what was now only melting ice. “I should go get us another drink. Hydration is important. Be right back!” I jumped up without waiting for him to reply.