The Honey - Don't List

“Wait. You’re from New Mexico?” When he nods, I joke, “No one is actually from New Mexico.”

He laughs this off. “I am, I promise. We moved there when I was three, from Wisconsin. My mom grew up in New Mexico, and after she finished her residency in Madison, she set up her family practice in Albuquerque.”

“Sounds like a witness protection cover,” I tease.

“I wish my life was that exciting.” James’s grin is my new addiction. “Listen: My dad is in finance. I was the drum major in high school, and president of the chess club—I’m sure you have no problem believing that. We had a house and a dog and everything.”

I squint at him. “Sounds believable. I’ll allow it. You may continue to tell me about this amusement park.”

“It’s a big deal in our family,” he says, with adorable gravity. “My mom went there when she was growing up, so it’s like a rite of passage. It was my favorite place. There were rides and a water park and games—they even did a Food on a Stick Festival every year. I’d beg my parents to take us, and then when my sister was old enough to go with her friends, they’d make her take me with them.”

I remember my brothers’ whining whenever my mom sent them to drag me home or made them pick me up from school. They were never afraid to remind me how much I cramped their style. “I’m sure she loved that.”

“Yeah, I was a pain because I always wanted to go but I was terrified of the roller coasters.”

“Then what did you do there?”

“Watch everything, mostly,” he says. “Get as close as I could to the rides so I could try to figure out how they worked. I was fascinated by the idea that you could be flying down this track at sixty, seventy, maybe a hundred miles an hour in some cases, and there was no engine powering the car. You’re pulled to the top of the hill, but then it’s the conversion of potential energy to kinetic energy that gets you through the ride.”

“That is the most James McCann thing I think I’ve ever heard you say, and I’ve heard you talk for an hour about the principles behind seismic loading.” I pop another Funyun into my mouth. “I guess I look at a roller coaster and just see the potential for vomit. Or death. I never thought about how they work. But I can see how it’d be fascinating if you were a super nerd.” Pausing, I add, “I mean that as a compliment, by the way. Your brain is pretty great.”

James ducks his head and pretends to be interested in a chip in the cement. I take the opportunity to study the sharp line of his jaw. His face is so angular, made up of such extremes of soft lashes and hard features: cheekbones, jaw, the straight line of his nose.

“But wait,” I say, suddenly remembering what he was actually going to be doing this week before we were roped into babysitting the Tripps. “What about Florida? You were going to ride Everest with your nephews.”

“I’m not afraid of rides anymore. I started figuring out how it all worked, how each part had a specific purpose. Some wheels keep the ride smooth, some keep the coaster on the track, some help with lateral motion, and so on. Once I understood how it all came together, they didn’t seem as scary.”

“I’d think it’d be even scarier knowing how many things can go wrong.” I laugh. “I guess that explains why you’re the engineer and I’m the assistant. You think of things in such mechanical terms. I basically just book us at inconvenient hotels.”

He’s quiet for a few long breaths. “But that’s not actually right, either, is it?”

This catches me off guard, and I glance over at him. “What?”

“Despite what you might think about me, I know how hard your job is. Few people appreciate what it takes to be a great assistant.” He tilts his head, grimacing sweetly. “But I know that’s not the only thing you’re doing here.”

For a second, I’m completely lost. “What?”

“Rusty told me,” he says quietly.

His meaning slowly sinks in, and it feels like a weight is tied to all the air in my chest, pulling it down inside my lungs. “Rusty told you what?”

“That the designs have been yours. That the whole brand grew out of the work you did early on.” He pauses, watching me carefully. “And now.”

I’m afraid to try to breathe. “Rusty said that?”

“Yeah.”

I turn back to where the kids are packing up to head inside. “I don’t know why he’d say that.”

“Carey, come on. The concepts and the furniture? The entire brand? That was all you? It’s a miracle you’re doing literally everything and not falling down right now.”