12. Mae - Searching for the Truth

Mae - Searching for the Truth

Chapter twelve

It seems like Dean has really recommitted to his art because I've hardly seen him over the last few days. We've even stopped doing our joint dinners. I keep telling myself that it's normal. That's what friends do. They give each other space and occasionally connect when they're both free. Having nightly dinners with each other? That was the weird behavior. Still, I can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment every time I look over at their farmhouse. That is, until I see a pretty blonde park her car outside and walk into Dean's house.

"I'll be right back," I tell Grandpa Bob.

"Okay, dear." He waves me off.

I grab a pie I bought for Mina, Grandpa, and me to have after dinner, but I can always buy another. It'd be weird if I just showed up empty-handed, especially after he told me he didn't like people to see his unfinished pieces.

I head over to Dean's place, and just as I'm about to knock, I hear the woman saying, "You painted that? It's amazing."

Okay. I'm not the first person he wanted to show his painting to. That's fine. Dean's a handsome man. It makes sense that there are other women in his life—women who know him better than his neighbor.

I turn to walk away but run straight into Dylan.

"Ms. Dale?"

"Hi, Dylan." I roll my eyes at him. "Remember, I told you to call me Mae."

He runs a sheepish hand over the back of his neck. "What are you doing?"

"I was about to see if you and your dad were hungry. I know he's been working hard on that painting. But it sounds like he has company so…"

Dylan looks at the car and says, "It's just Coral."

"Coral?" I ask. Hope rises inside me, and I struggle to tamp it down.

"Yeah," Dylan says. "My dad's assistant."

"Ah." Now I feel kind of foolish. But I still wasn't the first person he wanted to show his work to. "Can you just—"

"Dad! Mae's here, and she brought us pie!" he shouts, before I can finish my sentence.

Dylan opens the door and walks inside. Since I'm in between him and the door, I have no option but to follow. I step into the kitchen, and Dean emerges from his studio covered in paint.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi. I, uh, I brought you this." I hold out the pie. I figured you might be hungry."

"Oh, thanks," Dean says, a distracted look on his face. I'm right he doesn't want me here. "That was thoughtful of you."

Then, the blonde joins us in the kitchen.

"Coral, this is my neighbor, Mae Dale," Dean says, gesturing between us. "Mae, this is Coral Taylor, my assistant."

Coral reaches out her hand, and I'm about to accept it when I see that it's covered in paint.

"Um…"

Coral looks down at her hand. "Oh my gosh. Sorry about that."

So, she's been touching the painting—or Dean.

"Let's try that again," she says after washing her hands. "It's very nice to meet you, Mae. I've heard so much about you."

And I wish I could say the same. I shoot a glare at Dean. He acts oblivious. "Nice to meet you, too. Dean hasn't mentioned you." I hope I don't sound bitter. We're just neighbors, after all.

Then, I see that he has a perfectly preserved handprint near his jawline, as if Coral grabbed it while they were kissing, and resentment begins to simmer in my stomach.

So, this whole time, he's just been letting me act like a fool, flirting with him, sharing glances, while he's romantically involved—and with someone who works for him! I should have known better. Situations like this only have happy endings in romance books.

I set the pie down on the counter. "Well, I should be going."

"Wait, Mae," I hear Dean say in the distance. But I just keep walking as faint rumbles of thunder sound overhead.

"Why'd you give him our pie?" Grandpa Bob asks, when I storm into the house, slamming the front door behind me. I'm acting just like my teenage daughter, but I'm too angry to care.

"I just thought…" I pause, looking for the right words. "I just thought Dylan might be hungry."

"Oh," Grandpa says. He's looking at me with one eyebrow raised but, thankfully, doesn't comment. "So, who's the blonde?"

"Her name's Coral. She's his assistant." I take a deep shuddering breath. "And girlfriend."

Grandpa puts the dish towel in his hand down on the counter. "What? He has a girlfriend?" He's frowning at me.

"I guess," I shrug. "Whatever." I pick up his discarded dish towel and begin to dry the rest of the dishes. I need to do something to take my mind off that handprint.

"No," he says. "Not whatever. If that's the case, he's been leading you on."

"It's fine." I start to feel tears well up in my eyes, and I don't want Grandpa to see I'm crying because that would just be admitting how much I like Dean.

But it's no use. Grandpa Bob knows me too well. He just opens his arms to welcome me in, and I lean my head on his shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Mina asks when she comes in.

"Nothing," I say, my voice muffled by his thick plaid shirt. I don't need my daughter to know how pathetic I've been, thinking about a relationship I knew would never work out.

"She just found out that Dean has a girlfriend," Grandpa confesses, ratting me out.

"What?" Mina asks, her voice getting high and angry. "Seriously? How do you know?"

"Because I just met her," I say.

"That's whose car that is?" Mina pulls open the kitchen curtains to peer at the car in the Cornel's driveway.

"I guess so," I pout. And I hate that I'm pouting.

Grandpa releases me, and it's Mina's turn for a hug.

"I'm really sorry, Mom. I thought he liked you. I really did."

"That makes two of us," I admit.

"Do you want me to make you some hot cocoa? Then we can watch Dirty Dancing," Mina suggests, her voice excited, and I know she's just trying to cheer me up.

I haven't dated much since I've had her, but even from the few times I have, Mina and I have developed a post-break-up tradition.

"That sounds great," I say between sniffles.

"Okay. You go lay on the couch, pull it up on Prime, and I'll get the hot chocolate ready."

"And I'll add a little Baileys," Grandpa whispers to me.

"Thank you," I mouth back.

I settle myself on the couch, pulling blanket after blanket on top of me. As I search for the movie, a crack of thunder sounds overhead, and hard rain falls on the house.

Mina walks into the room and curls up next to me. She hands me one of the mugs.

"Wait!" I say. "Let me smell both of them."

"Grandpa put that nasty stuff in this one," Mina insists.

I take a whiff and confirm that she's correct.

"Just wait until you're twenty-one. You won't think Bailey's is gross. Trust me," I say.

"Whatever you say." Mina rolls her eyes at me.

"Here, try some." I hand her my mug.

She looks at me in shock. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, why not? I've let you take sips of my wine before. As long as you're with me, I don't mind if you take little tastes. That's not going to do anything. Plus, it's not like you have your license and can drive somewhere."

"You know I'd never drink and drive." Mina looks at me with her serious hazel eyes, and I give her a small, sad smile. She's such a good girl. I know she'd be careful, even if drunken driving hadn't taken people from our family.

"Good girl," I say. "Go on."

She reluctantly takes the mug from my hands and sips it.

"Well?"

"Um…I guess it's okay." I know from her face that she likes it.

"See? I told you."

"It kind of just tastes like normal cocoa but with a slight metallic taste."

I laugh. "That's probably the alcohol."

She smacks her lips as if to taste it a little better. "Interesting."

"Okay, now give it back."

She does, and I take a much bigger gulp of it than she did. And then I start the movie.

"Big girls don't cry. Big girls don't cry. Big girls don't cry-yi-yi. They don't cry." We sing along.

"Well, we know that isn't true," Mina says, after the song's over.

"Hey!" I lightly shove her. "I couldn't help it. I was shocked. What're you going to do, sue me?"

"I know, I know, I was just playing around. It's always okay to cry."

"You're absolutely right." I give her my serious ‘Mom' look.

"If it'll make you feel better, I'll stop hanging out with Dylan," Mina says quietly.

I tuck a few pieces of her long, dark hair behind her ear.

"Oh, honey," I say. "No. I don't want this to have any impact on you whatsoever. I can tell the two of you get along really well."

"We do, don't we?" Mina smiles at me.

"Yeah." I love the way she brightens up when she talks about him. It's so adorable.

We continue watching the movie until Grandpa announces that dinner's ready.

"Should we ask the Cornels—wait." He pauses. "Never mind."

"Yeah. They've probably got their own plans for tonight." I thought he was just distracted by his painting his whole time, but who knows? They were probably just all spending time together like a family.

"I didn't see her car before today," Mina says.

"Me either. But maybe they drove together from work or something." I pause. "Oh, my gosh. I just thought of something."

"What?" Mina asks.

We walk over to the dining table, and I say, "Maybe that's why the guys never spend the night at the farm?" And maybe she's not ready for farm life yet." She did look pretty stylish when I saw her. I know cashmere when I see it.

"But if you think she's been coming here anyway…"

"Okay, fine. It isn't a solid theory. But I've always thought it's weird that they never stay over."

"Here, just try to settle your mind and eat some of this stew," Grandpa says, handing us plates with a delicious-smelling beef stew and mashed potatoes. "Wallace gave me the greatest deal on braising steak down at the butchers. I was almost suspicious that something was wrong with it, but it looks, smells," he pauses to take a bite, "and tastes just fine."

That instantly reminds me of the time Dean insinuated that I'd gotten a deal out of Wallace because of my good looks. I'm so stupid. I can't believe I fell for that too.

I take a couple of bites, but my appetite is gone, so I excuse myself from the table.

"Just let her go," I hear Grandpa tell Mina, as I walk up to my room.

Well, at least I won fifty dollars. I cover my face with my pillow and scream into it.

An hour or so passes before I hear a faint knock on my door.

"Mom?" Mina asks.

"Yeah," I say, my voice still muffled by my pillow.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure, babe." I turn and sit up on the bed.

Mina opens the door and presents me with a warm bowl of the dinner I skipped out on.

"I thought you might be hungry now."

"Thank you." Man, I love my kid. I wave my hand to indicate she should come in further.

She gives me the stew and then sits on the bed.

"So—what was that?" She asks.

"What was what?" I ask, with my mouth full of food.

"Well, you obviously freaked out a little down there. After Grandpa mentioned the deal he got on the meat."

I grunt. "It's stupid."

"It's not if it makes you sad."

"Fine. Dean, ugh." I don't even like saying his name now. "He and I bet each other fifty dollars on whether or not Wallace gave me a discount on some pork chops because he thought I was pretty."

"Well, maybe he did," Mina says. "You are pretty." That deserves a hug, so I gather Mina in my arms and squeeze her tightly.

"Oh, yeah. And I'm sure he considers Grandpa Joe to be a total knockout, too."

We giggle at this, but then she says, "It could just be a coincidence."

"That's nice. Thank you."

"I'm just saying…" Mina trails off.

"I know. But I highly doubt it. I think he just has old inventory that he needs to get rid of to make room for newer stuff."

Mina folds her arms over her chest. "Anyway, Grandpa was talking to me over supper about the possibility of tearing down the barn and replacing it."

"Really?" I ask. That sounds like a big job.

"Yeah, he's worried about the goats getting out. He thinks that the integrity of the entire building is compromised."

"He's already talked to a loan officer down at the bank," Mina admits.

I roll my eyes. "Of course he has." If there's one thing you can always count on, it's my grandpa's ability to be proactive. "But don't worry too much about that, okay?" I tell my daughter. "I'm sure he'll figure it out. He always does."

"Yeah," she smiles at me. "Oh! And Dwight called to remind you that he wants to come over and check on the bees tomorrow night."

"Let me guess…" I say.

"Yes, the bees told him to."

We laugh.

"Maybe we'll get some honey," Mina says, excited.

I smile at her.

"Oh! About that—I contacted the Petaluma Walnut Park Farmers' Market."

"And?"

"All I have to do to become a vendor is fill out an application and then have someone on their board, which Dwight is, come out and inspect everything for cleanliness and edibility."

"Oh, great. So, that'll be pretty easy then."

"I hope so."

My sweet girl leans against me as I continue to eat my dinner. She talks about the different things we could sell—honey, beeswax, and maybe even some candles. I should really thank Dean for—

No. I stop the thought in its tracks. I don't need to thank Dean for anything. I'll offer to pay him for the help he's offered us so far, and then I can finally get him out of my life.