Page 34 of Diners, Damsels & Wolves

Putting the items on the counter, she was at a loss for words. They were so simple, yet she’d never received anything more thoughtful.

A sketch pad; one hundred and fifty pages of high-quality paper for graphite. A set of artist pencils with a white eraser, a kneaded eraser, and blending sticks, and a Batman pencil case to put them all in. In the spirals of the notebook was a single pink peony flower.

“I didn’t know you drew,” Sylvia said.

“I used to,” Clarissa admitted. “It’s been so long.”

“And look, he knows peonies are your favorite.” Sylvia pulled out the flower, placing it in a water glass.

“How long have you been dating?” Eugene asked.

“We aren’t,” Clarissa said. “I talk to him here a lot, but … we haven’t actually been on a date.”

“Oh, an old-fashioned courting,” Jeff said.

“Presents and you’re not even dating, how sweet!” Sylvia said.

“Too sweet.” Clarissa pursed her lips, suddenly wary of her gifts.

“Oh no, don’t do that,” Sylvia chided.

“Do what?”

“Talk yourself out of a perfectly good match just because you’re romantically stunted.”

“I am not ‘romantically stunted.’ I’m just cautious,” Clarissa shot back. “There are whack jobs everywhere.”

“Yes, there are whack jobs, but there’s also good and genuine people out there too.” Sylvia put her items back in the bag and handed them to her. “I’m not saying you have to date this guy if you don’t want to. I’m just saying don’t count him out because you’re afraid.”

* * *

Crickets sang under a veil of inky night. Sitting at the small kitchen table, Rachel did a jigsaw puzzle. Clarissa had forced one of the side windows in the double-wide open. It was rusty and dented, so it was no small feat. The cool breeze wafting through the stuffy enclosure made the crick in her elbow worth it.

Her peony sat in a cup on her dinky kitchen table. Staring at it, she pondered everything. From her terrible abuse in high school, to her short-lived relationships in college where she had to be intoxicated before any physical intimacy, to recent events with Thomas. Finally, her thoughts landed on Sylvia’s words.

How bad could a guy be if he buys his pregnant sister a pie to satisfy her cravings? He also saved her. Saved her and asked for nothing in return. When she talked to him, he seemed genuinely interested in her.

If he wanted to hurt her, wouldn’t he have done something by now?

Clarissa got up from her chair. Grabbing her gift bag, she ripped open the pack of pencils and put them in her Batman case. Flipping open the sketch pad, she started outlining the peony flower. Her flower.

* * *

The front door jingled, and Clarissa couldn’t help the crane of her neck and the flutter of her heart—again. She’d been watching the front door all day.

She had no indication that Thomas would be in today. But she also had no indication that he wouldn’t either. As a result, she spent the morning only half paying attention to her customers, and half anticipating his arrival.

“Hey.” Sylvia caught her attention as she was putting in a new order. “You working a fourteen today?”

“It’s Tuesday, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Yeah, it is. The morning rush just finished, why don’t you go take your break while you can. I can handle the front.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, there’s only three tables, go on, rest your feet, get a snack.”

“Thanks, Sylvia.” Pausing to wash her hands, Clarissa then snagged her purse and hoodie, going out to her car. Locking herself in, she dug the apple from her bag and leaned the seat back.