to the outhouse. The bathroom was indeed a small room with a toilet, shower and tub, and vanity. Plain but serviceable. But Mireio decided it would be a bitch in the winter if a person woke in the middle of the night needing to answer the call of nature.
“No holes dug in the ground,” Lars offered as they stepped out into the night air.
He pointed out the wildflower field that backed onto his property behind the outhouse and the beehives he kept. He had eight stacks right now and would divide them in the fall and probably gain three more in the process. He’d promised to take some of Valor’s bees when she divided the hives that she tended from the rooftop of her apartment building in Tangle Lake.
“So you’re a keeper,” Mireio commented, loving herself for the pun.
“I am? Oh. Uh, yes. A beekeeper.”
She felt sure he blushed in the darkness. The man certainly was a keeper.
After the grand tour, Mireio suggested they call it a night. She’d felt bad he’d had to take Peanut out of his crib, but the infant had slept through being buckled into his car seat and the twenty-minute drive back to Anoka, and even her accidental slamming of the truck door when she got out at the sidewalk before her house.
“Can I call you?” Lars asked as he stepped down from the sidewalk to stand on the tarmac, which put their heights a little closer.
“I certainly hope so. Hey, how about an afternoon with Peanut tomorrow? I have to go in to work for a few hours in the morning. Valor and I are kegging the stout. But I’m free after one. We could go to a park and have a picnic?”
“I’d like that. You sure you’re okay with this, Mireio?”
She shrugged. “I am right now. If I think about it awhile? Who knows? But I don’t think I’ll change my mind. I’m enjoying getting to know you. You are certainly an interesting man.”
“Maybe a little too interesting, eh?”
“Better that than dull, right?” She laughed, but stopped abruptly. “So tomorrow it’s a date.”
“Should I pick you up at the brewery?”
“Yes.” She tilted up on her tiptoes to meet the kiss that he did not pause to give her this time. His breath tasted like the wine they’d shared over supper, and his beard brushed her cheek softly. And when she started to pull away he dipped in for a firm press that won her completely. She sighed into the kiss and drew her fingers down the ends of his long hair. Mmm, he was some kind of all right. “I do enjoy these not-so-shy kisses.”
“Me too. I would kiss you longer but...” He glanced over to the running truck.
“I’m glad you told me about Peanut. You two are adorable together. We’re going to have fun, the three of us.”
Lars turned and waved as he got in the truck. And Mireio hugged herself and recalled that the man had given her a choice to walk away now if she wanted to.
Did she want to walk away? Could she handle dating a man with a baby? Neither option felt easy. And she needed easy right now. Because that would counter the nightmares and her wariness over performing the immortality spell.
Areas of the park were overgrown with wildflowers stretching as high as Lar’s waist in some spots. They’d picnicked with egg salad sandwiches, fresh veggies and blueberry lemonade in mason jars. While Mireio packed up the basket, Lars wandered into the flowers with Peanut, pointing out the yellow sunflowers. He held out his hand and a bee buzzed closer, probably attracted to his movement. He never flinched. Bees would not sting a person unless they were given reason to do so. And he intended to teach Peanut to not fear the insect, and to also respect it.
“That’s a dragonfly.” He stood still as the insect hovered but four feet from him. Strapped to his chest in a baby sling, Peanut stretched out his arms and cooed. “Yes, you like bugs? Of course you do. But you mustn’t squish them. Insects are good. Especially the bees. Like that one. See the fat sacks of pollen on her legs? She’s going to make honey with that. And then we can eat it.”
Though he’d read not to give an infant honey in his first year. Or had the pediatrician told him that? He needed to get a guide or book on all the things a parent should do and watch out for. This whole baby thing was new to him. He was walking a tightrope with Peanut, and didn’t want to wobble off the line.
“We’ll find a book or something,” he said to Peanut.
“A book on what?” Having taken off her shoes, Mireio joined him. A camera dangled from around her neck. She took some shots of a bright purple coneflower. Bending, she plucked a few tiny white daisies.
“A baby book,” he said. “I need something that’ll tell me what I should and shouldn’t do. I was telling Peanut about honey. I know that’s a no-no for the first year.”
“Right. There are great books out there for parents. Dr. Sears or the What to Expect books. They cover a baby’s first year, telling you what changes they go through monthly and about their growth.”
“Sounds like exactly what I need. Can we stop by a bookstore on the way back into town?”
“For sure! But only if you don’t mind me checking out the books on beer. I’m looking for a new and interesting recipe.”
“Deal.” He turned and fist-bumped her. “You a photographer too?”
“Me? No. But I like to take pictures of flowers and bugs. I have a macro lenses that I usually use. Takes amazingly detailed shots, but I forgot it today. I do have one of my pictures hanging up behind my bed.”
“I’ll have to check it out sometime.” Lars wandered forward then, with a wince, realized what he’d said. Check out the picture or her bed?
Well, he’d like to do both. In good time.
Spying a thick crop of wild grass, he sat on it and laid back with Peanut snuggling up to his chest. “Ah, this is the life. The sun is high and warm and I don’t have a care.”
Mireio leaned over him and snapped a few pictures. “Do you mind? You two look adorable lying there. He really is a little peanut all curled up on his daddy’s chest.”
“Go for it.”
“Oh, wait. I forgot the daisies.” She pushed a couple daisies into his beard. “I did tell you I’d have you in daisies, didn’t I?”
“That you did.” He even managed to smile, eyes closed against the sun, as she snapped the camera above him and Peanut.
After a few shots, she sat in the grass next to them and set down the camera. Tilting her head back to allow the sun to beam across her face, her hair tickled Lars’s cheek. It was the color of overripe tomatoes, with a hint of golden sunshine within the strands. If her hair had a flavor, he decided it would be tangy cherry with a burst of lemon.
How had he gotten so lucky as to find a pretty girl who liked to spend time with him and his baby boy? While Dean Maverick had teasingly suggested that babies were chick
