11. Nate

11

NATE

Eden's bee friends are so wholesome. At first it was weird when they kept asking me my intentions toward her, and then I really got to experience her mother up close and personal, and I appreciated Eden's got some real adults looking out for her.

I was honest with Marsha about my intentions: earn another chance with Eden Storm and make it count.

I'm wired when I get home from the bowling situation, so I head out to my garage. I'll burn off some energy organizing Dad's stuff.

My stuff…

The business's stuff.

One thing I'll say about hanging out with Eden is it's inspiring me to actually do things I've been putting off for way too long. She makes it seem possible. Before, it felt like too much to even open the garage door.

Dad would probably have smacked my ear if he saw all his tools in a jumble with wood bits. It doesn't take long to get each of the tools on its proper peg or shelf. It helps that Dad drew outlines of each tool or labeled the bins. Look at him… still making things easy for me from beyond the grave. No doubt he had a chart up in his brain for that, too.

The scrap wood resembles a Dr. Seuss cactus, each board sticking out of rubber tubs at odd angles, but I got it sorted by type, and that seemed more useful than sorting by size. It's creeping toward midnight when I see a beautiful chunk of pine I recently brought from the Morningside house. I smile, thinking of Eden working to pull honeycomb carefully from inside those walls.

She said something about having to quarantine bees any time she removes them from someone's walls or yard, and a quick online search shows me some of the tools beekeepers use. I think of the box Eden frowned at, all tipped over in her yard. I decide to make her a sturdier, temporary bee box. If her mom or a neighborhood critter gets at the box again, at least it won't leak honey all over the place.

I can't keep track of paperwork for shit, but the beveled edges on this project take me no time to cut and sand. I'm going to be dragging tomorrow, but this suitcase-sized box might make Eden happy, and that will keep me going.

She's at the job site when I arrive in the morning, gorgeous in her usual tiny shorts and a tank top with the bowling alley's logo across her perky breasts. I'm grinning like a lovesick fool when I climb out of the truck with a thermos full of coffee. And then I stumble when I see her wringing her hands and breathing heavily in apparent distress.

"Thank you so much for everything yesterday," she says, rushing toward me. "My mom just… ugh. She was awful. Is that awful, that I think of my mom this way? I didn't give her keys because this is my only set?—"

"Hey." I put a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have a single thing to apologize for. What your mom does is not on you. I mean, she cost you a colony of bees, right?" I give her a gentle squeeze, noticing her soft skin under my palm. "Would it make you feel better if I told you I have a present for you?"

"A present?" She blinks, shifting her weight and bouncing on her toes like I told her she won the lottery.

"Don't get too excited. I felt inspired after bowling." I open the passenger door of the truck, revealing the box. "I found a bit of scrap wood I thought might work for you."

Eden holds a palm over her mouth. She runs a finger along the wood, which I polished with some of the beeswax from her scrap bucket.

"You made this?" Eden slides the lid off and back on, admiring the grooves inside for the frames I always see her wrapping in rubber bands.

"Um…yeah." I scratch my neck, a little overwhelmed by the look on her face.

Eden yanks it from the truck and squats, resting the box on her lap. I burned Storm Swarm into the lid. I wanted to add a little bee or something, but I ran out of energy by that point.

"It's for your quarantine bees. I read that polishing it with wax would help waterproof it. I thought if something tipped it—" My words are cut off by a jump hug as Eden springs to her feet and leaps into my arms. She clings to me like a squirrel on a utility pole.

I can feel her along my entire body, heels on the backs of my thighs and strong arms looped around my neck. I return the hug gladly, wanting to wrap her up and never put her down.

"I love it so much, Nate. Nobody has ever…" Eden slides to the ground as if she just realized she jumped into my arms.

"You're welcome." My hands twitch on her waist.

Her cheeks turn pink, and she eases back, leaving my whole body cold and empty. "I'll put it in my van and meet you upstairs. We can pull out more honeycomb."

I nod and head inside, even though I want to wait and walk up the stairs with her. Maybe permanently fix myself to her side. I get my wish soon enough, though, as we are pressed together, lifting heavy sheets of waxy honeycomb from the wall and into Eden's cooler. We gently fill the entire thing, plus a few junk buckets, before Eden sits with her back against the wall, guzzling water.

I join her, chugging from my coffee thermos. Eden licks her lips, and I stare too long, not hearing at first when she asks, "How did bowling go after I left?"

"We didn't win, but only Muriel seemed upset. You didn't tell me we were playing for drink coupons."

"Everyone likes a good drink coupon." Eden fidgets with her bottle. "I'm just glad Mom didn't force a forfeit or something."

"I was happy to fill in. They were fun." We're silent a few beats. "How'd you meet the Honey Rollers?"

Eden chuckles. "I didn't really have a plan after high school. I was waiting tables, taking classes at the community college, but I wasn't feeling it. Esther had this rule where we had to be in some sort of school to keep living with her. I was terrified to tell her I left midway through the semester."

"Have I met Esther yet?"

Eden shakes her head. "She owns Bridges and Bitters in Lawrenceville. It takes up most of her time these days."

"I've heard of that place. Very fancy."

Eden sighs. "Yes, well, one day Marsha came into the café where I was working, all decked out in her bee gear and ordered an entire pitcher of iced tea. She'd been stung a bunch and was all sweaty. I asked her more about her situation, and she got me hooked up with beekeeping classes Muriel was teaching." Eden screws the cap back on the bottle, tossing it by her cooler. "That was four? Maybe five years ago. I quit the café about a year ago… right before I met you, I guess. But now my sister is moving out…"

I arch a brow, not catching her train of thought.

She frowns. "My sister paid half the rent."

"Ah, all the finances changed." I let out a low groan. "I feel you on that."

I help Eden haul the coolers and buckets to her van. She comes back up to do another check but declares the wall entirely bee-free. "I'll probably start processing everything this afternoon. I have a big order from the café where I used to work."

I peer into the wall and marvel at how many stinking bees were in there and how much physical product they created. There are still some bits and nubbins of wax along the wood, and I'm sure it's very sticky in there, but Chris will be excited to use a power washer before we redo the wiring.

I sigh and turn back to Eden. "I guess this is the end of our professional relationship."

She smiles, lips together. "Unless you find another swarm, yeah."

"Nice doing business with you, Eden Storm."

She holds out a hand, which I shake, but I don't let go. She laughs. "You, too, Nate Donovan."

I twist my wrist so I can rub her palm with my thumb. I can't let her just drive away without a plan to see her again. I already gave her the box. She doesn't seem to be flinching from my touch. "Do you want to go see a show with me this weekend?"

"A show?" She arches a brow.

"Yeah, like a music thing. Down at Hazelwood Green."

She presses a palm to her chest, emitting a little gasp. "I haven't been down there since they fixed it up."

"I'd love to take you. If you're interested."

"Like a date?"

I nod. "Is that okay? I'm not a client anymore…"

Her mouth tips up into a bigger smile, and I stand taller as a weight lifts from my shoulders. The air seizes in my lungs and I study her every movement, every flicker of her expression. She cants her hip, pink spreading through her cheeks. "I'd love that."