Page 8 of Honey, I'm Home

Somehow they have a key to my business, which we'll be discussing later. In depth. They walk in and the almost overpowering scent of honey follows them, making it impossible to forget what they are.

I don't think many people fantasize about getting freaky with insects, but that's only because most of them don't know it's actually an option.

“Can I help you guys?”

Dev walks up, face split so wide it must be causing him pain. He's bulked up a lot since we were teenagers, and even though he's got a long-sleeved sweater on, I can see the tattoos peeking through where he's got it pushed up his forearms. Most of his fingers on his right hand are covered in big, silver rings dotted with chunky stones, and somehow, he makes suspenders look really hot.

I run my hands through my short hair, knowing the product I put in this morning is likely completely gone. I really don't feel pretty right now.

Dev leans right over my desk, absolutely ignoring my need for personal space. “You've made me the happiest man on earth.”

I replay my memories of the day, and realize I never actually figured out what the heck happened earlier with Hawthorne. Neither Arbor nor Hawthorne seem to think that anything Dev is saying is crazy, though. In fact, they're smiling right along with him, in a very encouraging manner. Why are they encouraging this delusion?

“I'm so sorry. I feel as if there's been some miscommunication between us. I can say with absolute confidence that I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Why, the fact that you came back to town to be with us! It's the greatest day of my life!” Dev beams at me again.

I stand up, trying to strike my power pose. “You see, that's where my confusion lies. You know I moved to town for a fresh start, right? You guys said you needed help selling your house, and I'm happy to do so, but as far as I'm concerned, that is the extent of our relationship.”

I expect them to look hurt, dismayed, maybe even angry, but they all laugh like I said something hilarious. NowIfeel dismayed. Did I use that term correctly?

Hawthorne rounds the desk, wagging his finger at me. “You're so funny. I forgot how funny you were. Did you guys forget how funny she was, too? Man. You ready to go get dinner, gorgeous?”

I don't really know what my face is doing as I allow them to tow me out of that office. I watch them with removed disinterest as they lock up with the same key they opened it with, Arbor tucking the key back into his pocket.

I'm lifted into the back of their truck, squeezed between Dev and Hawthorne. Arbor starts humming way too jauntily for my comfort as he drives, and the entire drive they're all laughing and joking with each other, and Dev definitely has an arm wrapped around my shoulder.

Did I somehow find myself in a poly relationship? On accident? I cannot stress enough how unintended this was. Totally did not just wink at you.

We walk into Nana’s Noodles, the only Italian restaurant we have here in Trash Haven. It’s always good. It's so strange seeing people from my past, people that were adults when I was young, that now just look old. I don't feel like an adult. Does that happen at a specific age? Because I don't know if it's going to happen for me.

At least three separate people stop to congratulate us as we’re shown to our table, and each time they do, I can't help but look over my shoulder as we pass them and shoot them looks of confusion.

Dev keeps a hand firmly tucked against my lower back, having the audacity to even rub his thumb up and down as he does.

The whole meal goes by in a haze, and I'm too lost in the fairy tale of it all to question what they actually want with me. I find myself nodding along to their conversations, smiling like a damn idiot, and not once do I bother asking them what exactly we're celebrating or why we're out on a date at all. I think we are, but I refuse to ask because if I do and I don't get the answer I want, I might break down and start ugly crying right here in this restaurant. That might ruin more than just my dinner.

For now, I figure it's harmless to play along.

They drive me home and walk me to the door, kissing me on the cheek one by one as they bid me goodnight, and it's not until I've walked inside my parents’ house and it's quiet and dark because everybody's already gone to bed, that everything sort of washes over me.

Chapter 5

Aster

Things don't become any less confusing with a new day. They don't become any less confusing with afewnew days. At this point, I'm fairly sure my brother is avoiding me, and it's time to go figure out why. With nothing much happening at the office at the moment, I decide not to bother with it. I'm really rocking this professional thing, aren't I?

Because I know I'll be waking my brother up even though it's nearly lunchtime, I make sure to pack up a couple of homemade iced honey lattes, courtesy of the ridiculous basket of honey products left to me on the doorstep of my parents’ house by, you guessed it. Those weirdo neighbors of ours.

I'm not going to think too deeply about how that honey is made. I'm not.

Because my brother loves me, I have a key to his place, even though I haven't lived in this town for quite some time. Walking in with my eyes closed and praying he doesn't have any overnight guests I need to watch out for, I walk in before he can tell me not to. It's quick work to connect to the speakers he's got wired through the place, and I start blaring some really annoying pop music and sit at the table and wait.

I like to imagine I look really cool sitting there like that, legs crossed, nails tapping on the table, latte in hand. He looks less enthused than I’d hoped as he stumbles out of his room.

“What are you doing here?”

I let the moment get really uncomfortable for him before I answer. I'm annoyed. “Gee, I don't know. Maybe I went through an awful breakup and left everything I built behind, crawled back to mom and dad's to start over in our hometown, and was hoping I'd get to hang out with my brother? You know, the only one I have? But instead, it would seem that he's been avoiding me. You haven't answered a single text or call since I've been here. What the hell, Anderson?”