“Can I get you something to drink?” she offered Aaron once they got her dad back home. She pulled a can of soda out of the refrigerator for her dad. “He’s got some soda and lemonade in here.”
“I’ll just have some water,” he replied. “Which cabinet houses the glasses? I can get it myself.”
Bonnie pointed at the right one before running the can of soda out to her dad, who was resting on the couch in the living room.
Aaron handed her a glass of water when she returned. “Thanks,” she said, grateful that he’d thought about her. She drank the glass down. Who knew that fearing for her father’s life would make her so parched?
“I never would have guessed that your dad would be the first one we’d have to run to the hospital. My money was definitely on me.”
Bonnie let out a soft laugh. “My money would have been on you, too.”
Aaron placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m glad he’s okay. That was more intense than I was prepared for. I can only imagine how scary it was for you.”
“Way too intense for me. Maybe a power higher than Lauren was trying to tell me something. Maybe we shouldn’t go into business together.” Bonnie had never experienced such panic. The helplessness she had felt when her dad’s lips swelled and he could barely breathe was like no other. All she could think was that this was some sort of bad omen.
Tipping his chin down, Aaron frowned. “A wasp nest is not a sign. It’s a nuisance like the mice. That house needs us. I mean, first, it needs some other people to come in and get rid of the mice and wasps, but then it needs us.”
He was funny, so gorgeous, and he’d been so sweet to her. Still, there was this lingering feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. There were so many reasons not to work with Aaron.
“I can’t get this darn thing off,” her dad said, walking into the kitchen tugging at his hospital bracelet. His gray comb-over was sticking up instead of slicked down.
“Here, let me get it.” Bonnie retrieved the kitchen shears from the wood block on his counter. She snipped off the plastic band, and he rubbed his wrist.
“What house are we going to go look at after lunch?” he asked.
“Dad, you almost died. You’re staying home.”
He hitched up his pants and shook his head. “Relax, Bon Bon. I’m fine. A couple bee stings aren’t going to take me out.”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t need to take it easy.”
“I’ll take it easy when I’m six feet under,” he argued.
Bonnie could feel her blood pressure rising. “Do you want that to be sooner or later?”
“I already decided I’m putting in an offer on the Greenbriar house.” Aaron stepped between the bickering father and daughter. “We don’t need to look at anything else, David. We can spend the rest of the day brainstorming ideas from the comfort of your living room.”
“Okay, sounds good. What’s for lunch?”
Taking a deep breath, Bonnie let her fists unclench. Her father was so infuriating and stubborn. She could have pleaded with him to rest until she was blue in the face and he still would have refused. Thankfully, Aaron was here to save the day.
“Should I run out and pick something up?” Aaron asked.
“We have plenty of food here.” Bonnie couldn’t allow herself to depend on him to always swoop in. Even though it was nice to have someone supporting her when it seemed like the rest of the world had turned their backs on her, she couldn’t count on it to last. Lauren would see to that at some point.
Aaron let out a slight snicker.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. I just thought of something Lauren used to say.”
“About?”
“About how she liked to come over to your house when you guys were little because your mom always made all your meals. She said you guys never went out, even on special occasions.”
Bonnie suspected that Lauren didn’t say she liked coming over to eat her mom’s food but rather shared how sad it was that the poor Windsors lived the way they did. Bonnie had never felt embarrassed to have Lauren over until they were teenagers and she could truly appreciate how different their life situations really were.
The Windsors did not live like the Coles. There hadn’t been a room in her house that Bonnie would’ve called formal. Her mom had never asked anyone to take off their shoes when they came inside because a little dirt never hurt anything. A white-glove test would have revealed some dust for sure. And unlike at Lauren’s house, where they’d had a personal chef make all of their meals, Bonnie’s mom had always done the cooking.
“I’m sure Lauren loved to tell you all about how she used to have to slum it over at my house growing up.”
Aaron’s brows pinched together. “Slum it? Are you kidding me?”
“You guys had Byron, who had cooked for the queen of England. I don’t think my mom’s chili really competed.”
“He may have cooked for kings and queens, but Byron wouldn’t make something called a PBM sandwich, though. It was Lauren’s absolute favorite, and not a fluffernutter sandwich as I wrongly assumed once.”
Bonnie’s heart ached a bit at the memory. Her mom had made peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches quite often, because they were a family favorite. Her mom would use her cookie cutters to make them into different shapes depending on the time of year. Hearts in February, shamrocks in March, pumpkins in October.
“PBM sandwiches are the best,” her dad chimed in. “You got any marshmallows at your house, Bon Bon? I could really go for a PBM for lunch.”
She did not have any marshmallows, and seeing
