“I did this part,” Everly says, pulling out a small vase with daisies that grow on the bank by the creek. She sets it down on the blanket and then retrieves some paper placemats with pictures drawn on each one. She points at the first one. “This is Cozy and me on the deck playing tennis.” They’re just sitting. “This is me and you having supper with Michael.” Dad can’t cook, nice touch. “And this is you saving Cozy’s life!” She laughs and rests her hand on my shoulder, sighing like it’s the funniest story in the world.
I shoot a wooden smile to Cassandra, who is distracted with the sandwiches she’s placing on the placemats. She pops open a Tupperware of fruit and something else I can’t quite discern.
“Great drawings, Everly,” I declare with a smile. “You’ll have to draw a picture of this picnic. Everything looks great.”
Everly settles in the space between us, sitting criss-cross and biting into her sandwich enthusiastically.
“Is it okay?” Cassandra asks nervously.
Everly’s brows shoot up. “It’s delicious!”
Cassandra looks relieved.
Around a mouthful, I inquire, “What have you guys been up to this morning?”
“Cozy showed me the charcuterie board she’s working on, and it’s so cool, Dad!”
“Oh? Did you find some wood that worked? I told you I can chop something if you need it.”
“I’m good,” Cassandra says, avoiding eye contact with me.
“She let me sand it, but I got a splinter.” Everly thrusts her finger into my face, and I can’t tell where the splinter was, but I grab it and kiss it away anyway.
My brows furrow as I look over at Cassandra. Last week, this would have been something she texted me about. Now this week, she can barely make eye contact with me. Goddammit, I fucked shit up.
“But don’t worry,” Everly continues. “Cozy got the splinter out, and I didn’t even cry.”
I set my half-eaten sandwich down and nod. “Well, that sounds like a busy day already. What’s the plan for the afternoon?”
“Probably swimming,” Everly peals excitedly and then looks over her shoulder. “Cozy, can I go play at the park?”
Cassandra’s eyes lift. “You should ask your dad, Sea Monster. It’s his lunch date.”
“Yeah, go play, kid,” I answer, my heart sinking a little over how Everly defaulted to Cassandra for permission instead of me. It’s to be expected when she’s in charge all day, but it still stings. I want that dynamic to change between Everly and me before the summer is over.
Cassandra and I sit in awkward silence as we watch Everly run on the playground from one obstacle to the next. I consider broaching the subject of Friday night, but that seems inappropriate. Plus, what else is there to say really?
I’m sorry I’m a horn ball fuck up who attacked you like I’ve never had sex in my entire life? I sigh heavily. Somehow, I was able to stop it before we had sex which is a painful reminder I’m going to have to live with every second I’m with her. Especially after getting a taste of her pouty lips and how she felt in my arms.
Frustrated with my stupid fucking thoughts, I open the second Tupperware. It looks like some sort of potato soup that’s…cold? I shrug and stick my fork in it to give it a try.
When the mushy particles hit my mouth, I instantly freeze and can feel Cassandra’s gaze on me. Fighting the urge to gag, I point at the container and mumble, “What is this?”
“It’s supposed to be potato salad,” Cassandra offers, her eyes watching me intently. “Is it not good?”
I press my lips together and nod, my face contorting in agony as I turn to look at her.
“Oh, come on. It can’t be that bad. I followed my mom’s recipe.” She grabs a fork and takes a drippy bite, instantly hunching over in shock. Her cheeks puff out as she garbles, “Oh, my God.”
I nod sadly.
“Oh, my God!” She quickly grabs a napkin to spit into. “I must have put in too much apple cider vinegar. That tastes like poison!” She hands me a napkin, but I’ve already swallowed. It was a sad swallow.
Her eyes are severe when she realizes what I’ve done. “That was a mistake.”
I quickly grab a bottle of water to chase the awful concoction down my throat. “I hope I don’t regret that later.”
“You will,” she huffs, replacing the lid on the Tupperware and tossing it into the grass like it’s going to infect us if we sit too close to it.