Page 85 of The Path to Loving Him
She opened The Almond Store, playing off the town name, and created a touristy destination. Before she passed, she asked Aubree to run the store until Hattie was able to take over when she was done with college. Now, Aubree looks over the farm with Wyatt. Hattie is in charge of the store, and it’s thriving. And I, well, I have Mac.
I open the door to The Almond Store, and I’m immediately hit by the smell of freshly baked cookies and almond. The white oak floors are free of dirt, and the white walls are pristine, showcasing the shelves of products. The subtle blue throughout the store offers a cleaner aesthetic, creating a peaceful shopping experience.
Hattie stands behind the counter, and a large smile spreads across her face when she looks up. “There’s my girl. How was school?”
Mac releases my hand and runs up to Hattie, giving her a big hug.
I don’t know how Mac does it. Hattie looks just like Cassidy, a spitting image. I wonder if that’s why they have a strong bond? Maybe that’s why Mac and Wyatt have a strong bond too, because Wyatt is actually the brother of Mac’s dad, who passed away in a bus accident.
“I made you a picture.”
“You did?” she asks. “Let me see.”
Mac holds up the picture, and I carefully watch Hattie’s face as she takes it all in.
To describe it to you the best that I can, I would say it looks like Hattie has googly eyes and knives coming out of her head. Several knives.
“Oh . . . wow.”
“Do you love it?” Mac asks, looking up at Hattie with those big green eyes.
“Yes, of course. You did such a good job.” Mac goes in for a hug while Hattie looks in my direction. She mouths, “What the fuck?”
Which makes me chuckle.
“Guess what, Aunt Hattie? Mac also counted backwards from twenty today.”
“She did?” Hattie asks. “Well, I think that’s a cause for celebration. How about a cookie?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Mac says, jumping up and down.
“Go grab a juice box, and I’ll get you your cookie.”
Mac takes off toward the back to the kitchen while Hattie whispers to me, “Should I be concerned that it looks like I’m getting stabbed in the head multiple times?”
I scratch my cheek. “Still trying to figure it out. I want to say that’s your curly hair, but . . . it does look a lot like knives.”
She shivers. “Horrifying.”
“You’re not the one living with her,” I whisper. “For all I know, the knives could be coming for me.”
She chuckles and places a cookie on a napkin just as Mac returns with a juice box in hand. Hattie sets her on the stool in front of the checkout counter and opens the juice while Mac takes a big bite of the cookie.
“Are you going to have one, Uncle Ry Ry?” she asks.
“Yeah, Uncle Ry Ry, are you going to have one?” Hattie asks, loving that Mac calls me Uncle Ry Ry now. It used to be Uncle Ryland, but along the way, it changed. At the beginning, it was annoying, but of course in grand Mac fashion, she’s worn me down.
“Sure,” I say.
Hattie grabs another cookie from the display case, sets it on the napkin, and hands it to me. “How was your day?”
“Fine,” I say, giving her a raised brow. “Why?”
“No reason, just wondering how everything’s going. Hayes said he drove by the school today and saw you out on the field with your new coach.”
“Hayes needs to worry about himself and figure out when the hell he’s going to propose.”
Hattie’s face falls flat. “That’s a sensitive subject, Ryland.” She leans closer and whispers, “I asked him about it last night. He got all huffy with me, and we got in a little fight. He told me to leave it alone and that he’ll propose when he wants to propose.”
