"Mom, let me type those in the computer and print them out. You're going to lose those scraps."
"I don't mind the scraps." She hands me one. "Do you want to make the peppermint?"
"Sure." I take a seat at the table. "What's Silas going to make?"
"You pick." She slides the paper scraps over to me.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you. Some lady came by here the other day wanting to look at the house."
My mom drops the dish towel she was holding. "What lady?"
"I don't know. Just some lady. She was in the driveway when I was coming back from Silas' house. She asked if she could come inside. She thought the house was for sale. I told her she had the wrong address." I start sorting through the soap recipes. "I panicked when she said it. I thought maybe you put it up for sale and didn't tell me. But I know you and dad would never sell it. You guys love this house. So do I. In fact, I was just thinking that I kind of miss your crazy rainbow-colored walls. Remember when I colored on them when I was really little? You and dad didn't even get mad. You told me to keep going. I drew a picture of a giraffe and his turtle friend, George." I laugh. "I don't know why I gave the turtle a name but not the giraffe."
She doesn't respond. I look up and see her covering her mouth, tears going down her cheeks.
I jump up and hug her. "Mom, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, honey. It's just hearing you talk about that made me miss those times. And you're right. I do love this house. I love all the memories it has."
My dad walks in. "Is everything okay in here?"
My mom wipes her face and smiles. "Yes. We're just getting everything set up."
I sit at the table again. "I told Mom you guys better never sell this house. I couldn't handle someone else living here."
My mom hurries down the hall. Where is she going so fast? She's acting strange tonight.
"What's wrong with Mom?" I ask my dad.
He shrugs. "Nothing. She seems fine to me."
Men. They're so clueless. They never notice anything. She's clearly upset about something. Maybe her new job is causing her stress. She should quit. It's not worth being that stressed.
What am I saying? That's going to me someday. Working all the time. Not sleeping. Stressed. I've told myself I'm okay with that but sometimes I'm not sure that I am, especially at times like this, when I'm here at home, relaxed and hanging out with my family. And Silas. I smile because he just walked in.
"Hey." He smiles. "Everything ready?"
He's wearing jeans and a light blue t-shirt that looks really soft. It makes me want to snuggle up to him and rub my hands over his chest.
I snap out of it when I feel his hands on my shoulders. He's now standing behind me and I tilt my head back to see him. "I told my mom you wouldn't show up."
"As usual, you were wrong."
My dad chuckles. "Those are fighting words, Silas. Willow doesn't like being wrong."
"Yeah." I reach back and whack his arm. "And I bet I wasn't wrong. You're probably just here for dinner and then you'll leave."
"Wrong again. I'm staying here until we're done." He rubs my shoulders. "How much of this lotion stuff are we making?"
"We're not doing lotions. We decided to make soaps tonight." I close my eyes as he massages my shoulders. "That feels awesome. My shoulders are killing me from all that strawberry picking."
"You could take tomorrow off," my dad says as he takes stuff out of the fridge.
"That's okay. I'll be fine by tomorrow."
I like being at the farm. Today was a lot of work and I'm exhausted, but it felt good to help out. And from the strawberry fields I had a great view of Silas, his biceps flexing as he dug holes and pulled weeds. Late afternoon he took his shirt off and after that I didn't get much work done. I pretty much just ate strawberries and watched his muscles flex, the sweat glistening off them. It's kind of pathetic, I know, but it's not every day you get a view like that.
"I'm going to go make the pizzas," my dad says as he carries the ingredients outside.
"Your dad's making dinner?" Silas asks.
"Yeah. He's grilling pizzas. My mom doesn't have time to make dinner. She's too busy getting ready for our soap-making marathon. You sure you want to do this? Because you really don't have to."
"I want to. I've always had this burning desire to make my own soap."
I laugh. "You'll have to take a bar home with you. Test it out."
He leans down by my ear. "Why don't we test it out together? This weekend?"
My heart races and I shiver, his breath tickling my ear. "Stop it," I whisper, smiling.
"Yes or no?"
I close my eyes to get my composure back, but instead I see images of Silas and me in the shower. We've showered together exactly three times and I remember every single detail. The way his hands felt sliding down my skin. His wet lips kissing me. The hot steam surrounding our naked bodies.
"Yes," I blurt out.
"Really?" He sounds shocked as he takes the seat next to mine.
I shake my head. "No. Sorry. I didn't mean that."
"Too late." He's grinning. "You already agreed to it."
"I didn't—"
"Did your dad get dinner going?" My mom walks in.
"Yeah. He's outside at the grill."
"I think we'll eat out on the patio since we have all our supplies spread out on the table." She smiles at Silas. "You showed up. Willow was sure that you wouldn't."
"She was—"
"Wrong," I say, interrupting Silas as I roll my eyes. "I got it. You don't need to say it again."
Silas laughs.
"Well, thank you for helping out," my mom says. "Did Willow assign you a soap to make?"
"No, but we were just talking about it." He gives me a sideways glance.
"Willow's favorite is the peppermint, so she's going to make that one."
"Peppermint, huh?" Silas looks at me. "I'd like to try that one."
"You should," my mom says, having no idea what Silas is implying. "Take one and try it out."
"I think I will." He nudges my foot under the table because I'm ignoring him, my eyes on the recipes.
"We should make extra lavender ones," I say to my mom. "People love lavender."
"I agree." She picks up one of the recipes. "Maybe Silas could make the honey oatmeal one. It's a more masculine soap. No flowery smell."
He takes it from her. "I can do that. Honey oatmeal? Sounds like something you could eat."
"The oats are an exfoliant and the honey makes your skin soft," I explain. "I just used it last night in the shower. Made my skin really soft."
I know that'll get Silas going, which he deserves after making sexual innuendos with my mom around.
"I'm going to go check on your dad." My mom goes outside.
I feel Silas staring at me. "If you keep this up, we're going to be trying that soap out tonight."
"I didn't do anything." I pick up a sprig of rosemary. "People like it when you add herbs and flowers to the soap. Gives it more of a handmade feel."
He places his hand on my thigh and leans over to my ear. "You love teasing me, don't you?"
"Sorry. I shouldn't do that."
"Don't stop," he whispers. "I like it when you get me all worked up. Makes it that much better when we actually do it." He gently squeezes my thigh, then sits back.
I'm trying to breathe normally, but it's hard when my heart's going this fast.
Silas gets up. "I'm going to see if your dad needs any help."
My mom comes back in as Silas goes outside.
"Pizzas are almost ready," she says. "You want to help me with the drinks?"
As I get up to help her, I glance out at the patio and see Silas and my dad talking next to the grill. For a moment, I imagine Silas and me in the future, married, and coming over here to have dinner with my parents. Maybe we'd even have a kid or two.
"What are you smiling at?" my mom asks, handing me two glasses of water.
"Oh,
um, nothing."
"You seemed deep in thought." She smiles. "Was it about Silas?"
"No. Something else. I'll take these outside."
As I'm walking to the door I hear her behind me. "Whatever it was, you sure seemed happy about it."
She's right. That image of Silas and me in the future made me happy, and obviously made me smile, which I didn't even realize I was doing until my mom said that.
Why am I even letting myself imagine Silas and me together? I know what my future holds and it's not marrying Silas, having kids, and coming to my parents' house for dinner. In my real future I'll probably be single with no kids, eating dinner at my desk every night. God, that sounds horrible when I think about it, but I have to make sacrifices if I want to succeed.
We have dinner outside and the pizzas are great. My dad should cook more often. He's better at it than my mom.
After dinner, my dad goes into his home office to do whatever it is he does in there, while Silas, my mom, and I make soaps. Silas keeps coming up with new variations and not following the recipes. My mom doesn't care. She's all about being creative and trying new things. She just tells him to write down what ingredients he used so she can put it on the label. Actually, I'm making the labels. I've already got a template set up on the computer.
By eleven o'clock we have more than enough soap to sell. I'm sure we'll have some left over, which we can sell at the farmers' market.
"We can clean this up tomorrow," my mom says. "I need to get to bed." She says goodnight and she and my dad go to their room.
I walk Silas to the door. "Thanks for helping us."
"No problem. I can't wait to make lotions next."
I laugh. "You're not doing that. We worked you hard enough with the soaps. You need a night off."
"I don't have anything else to do. And besides, your mom really liked the new soaps I came up with. I have even more ideas for lotions."
"Are you going to test those out too?"
He smiles. "This weekend."
"Silas, that's not going to—"
He kisses me mid-sentence. "See you tomorrow." And then he leaves.
The next day he's there at seven to pick me up. We wanted to get to the farm early because it might rain later. The day goes by fast, mostly because I'm staring at Silas for most of it. It's amazing how entertaining it is to watch a hot man do physical labor.
That night we make the lotions, putting them all in cute little jars. My crafty side is really coming out. I didn't know I had a crafty side. I guess Silas is right. I have all these sides of me I didn't know existed.
On Friday, I pick berries in the morning, then after lunch Silas drops me off at home and I get to work finishing up the soaps and lotions. In addition to the labels, I make signs with the prices listed out. My mom and I went over the prices last night. I had to talk her into charging more because what she was going to charge was way too low.
My phone rings as I'm walking to the printer. "Hello?"
"Willow, it's Taylor." Taylor is one of my friends from college. She's from a family of golfers and is on the college golf team. This summer, she's back home in Phoenix, living with her parents and brother, who's a pro golfer. Living in their guest house is Luke, her brother's friend, who's also a pro golfer and the guy Taylor's in love with. Or maybe it's not love, but she has a huge crush on him.
"Taylor! I'm so glad you called. How's your summer going?"
"Great." She sighs. "But complicated."
"Because of Luke?"
"Yes. I knew this would happen. I knew having him live here would be next to impossible."
"Have you two talked?"
"We did more than talk."
"You had sex with him?"
"No, but we kissed and—never mind. It doesn't matter. I can't date Luke."
"Why not?"
"Willow, we've been over this a million times. Luke is friends with my brother and my brother would kill him for dating me."
"Who cares what your brother thinks? Tell him to stay out of it."
"It's not just him. My parents made it clear to Luke that he needed to stay away from me. It's a condition of him living here."
"Why?"
"Because they're doing him a favor letting him stay here and they think it's disrespectful for him to start something with their daughter while he's living under their roof."
"It's not disrespectful if you and Luke both want to be together. It'd be different if he was hitting on you and you had no interest in him."
"My parents don't see it that way. They don't want Luke getting involved with me."
"Do they think anything's going on with you two?"
"No, and it needs to stay that way."
"I think you should date him." I plop down in the desk chair and spin around on the casters.
"Willow! You're supposed to talk me out of this!"
"It doesn't have to be anything serious. Just date him for the summer."
"Just like you're dating Silas for the summer?"
I stop spinning. "I'm not dating Silas."
"That's not what I heard. Lilly said you've spent all your time with him since you got back."
"When did you talk to Lilly?"
"Yesterday. I had to tell her about Luke."
"You called Lilly before me?"
"You never have your phone on."
"It's on but the battery keeps dying. I think I need a new phone."
"So tell me what's up with Silas."
"Nothing's up. We're just friends."
"That's not what it sounded like," she says in sly tone.
"We only did it one time."
"You had sex with Silas?" she yells.
"Lilly didn't tell you that?"
"No. She just said you've been hanging out with him, not having sex with him."
"Well, I did."
"So you're dating him," she says like it's a fact.
"We're just friends."
"Who have sex. So friends with benefits."
I cringe because I hate that term, but unfortunately it's true. "I guess that's what we are. I'm not really sure."
"Are you going to do it with him again?"
"Apparently I can't control myself around him, so yeah, I'm sure it'll happen."
She laughs. "You spent all last year saying you were over him and now look at you. Back with Silas after a couple weeks."
"More like a day. But like I said, we're not really dating."
"Willow, sorry, but I have to go. I forgot I have an appointment with my golf coach. I was supposed to be there ten minutes ago. My dad's gonna kill me. This coach costs a fortune and you have to pay even if you don't show up."
"Okay, we'll talk later. Bye!"
I probably won't talk to Taylor again for a month. She told Lilly and me she'd try to stay in touch this summer but I think she's going to be too busy with all her workouts and time on the golf course. And if she starts secretly dating Luke, she'll be even busier.
Just as I'm about to set the phone down, it rings again. I feel a rush of excitement when I see it's Silas calling. How does he cause this reaction from a simple phone call?
"Hey. Are you on break?" I ask.
"Yeah. How's the label making going?"
"Slow. I keep changing the design."
"Why? What's wrong with it?"
"It's too plain. It looks homemade, not professional."
"They're homemade products, so why can't the label look homemade?"
"I want it to look homemade, but not too homemade. You know what I mean?"
"Not really."
"The ones I have now are colorful and cute but they're missing something." I pick up one of the labels I printed out. "Right now I have the type of soap it is and the farm's name and web address. That's it."
"Maybe you need a logo. That always makes things look professional."
"Yes, that's it!" I jump up, tossing the label aside. "The farm needs a logo. Not just for the labels, but in general. We always just pri
nt the name in this ugly font. An actual logo would be so much better. Silas you're a genius!"
"Um, okay. Thanks."
"But it'll cost thousands to get one designed. My parents won't go for that."
"Just do it yourself."
"I'm not good at art. But you are. Can you help me design something?"
"Sure, but I can't tonight. I have to study for that test tomorrow."
"Maybe we could do it Sunday." A surge of excitement hits me as I imagine what else we could do in addition to the logo. We could make the farm into a brand, give it a new image—a younger, fresher image. Something that would make customers seek us out. "Silas, you have no idea how much you have my brain going right now."
"Just your brain?" he asks in a flirty tone.
I laugh. "For now, yes. I'm sure you'll get other parts of me going when I see you. Are you coming over for dinner?"
"I can't. I promised Trent I'd go over and help him get stuff for the party tomorrow. We're going to his parents' house and loading up my truck with extra chairs and coolers."
"Then I guess I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah. I need to get back to work. Bye."
I thought he'd want to stop over tonight after he helps Trent, but maybe he's tired. He must be exhausted after working at the farm all week. I've never seen someone work so hard. I have to bring him lunch just so he'll take a break.
I'm bummed I won't see him tonight. And a little sad. If I feel this way after one night without him, how am I going to feel when I go back to school in the fall?
I'm not going to think about that. September is a long ways away.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Silas
I decided to take a night off from Willow. One, because I have to help Trent. Two, because I want to see if she misses me when I'm not around. And three, because I'm getting too attached to her.
It's only been a couple weeks and I'm already even more in love with her than I was two years ago. If this continues, Trent's prediction will come true. Willow will destroy me. Again.
She destroyed me when she broke up with me after our brief engagement, but I was younger then and able to get over it, telling myself we were too young to be that serious. But this time? It'll take a lot longer to get over her, maybe because everything seems more real now that we're older. My future seems less like a dream and more like reality.
Still Love You Page 15
