“Honey flow?” Shelby asked. “Remember, my bee knowledge is...well, I have none.”
“If you want to learn, you’re in the right place.” Astrid set her wine aside to sift through puzzle pieces. “Honey flow, honey harvest, same thing. It’s quite the production.”
“But it’s not until July.” Aunt Mags glanced Shelby’s way.
“The beauty of graphic design is I can work wherever there is Wi-Fi.” Shelby set her wineglass aside. “As long as you’re sure it’s not an imposition? Bea is a good baby but she’s still a baby.”
A baby Mags and Camellia were outright smitten with. There was an overlapping chorus of protests.
“You’re both welcome to stay with us as long as you’d like.” There was so much love in Aunt Mags’s eyes. “This is your home now, too.”
As long as we win the honey contest.If they didn’t... Tansy took another sip, refusing to consider that this might be their last honey harvest.
“Don’t make that face.” Aunt Camellia used a knitting needle to point at her. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“What?” Astrid asked, looking up.
“This will not be the last honey harvest for us.” Tansy took a deep breath. “There, is that better?”
Aunt Camellia nodded but she didn’t look happy.
“I’m sorry.” Tansy reached over to squeeze her aunt’s arm. “I’m trying to only think good things.” But she kept circling back to Dane. And the not-so-good things he’d been dealing with all on his own.
“We’re all worrying over it.” Astrid sipped her wine. “But worrying won’t do anything except give you wrinkles.” She smiled up at Aunt Mags.
“It’s the truth.” Aunt Mags patted Astrid’s hand. “I think I’ll put Shelby in the guest room. It’s big enough for Bea’s portable crib.”
“If you need help settling in, let me know.” Tansy hoped Shelby would stay long enough to really connect with them all—especially Aunt Mags.
“Thanks.” Shelby tucked a long strand of red hair behind her ear. “A lot.”
“Don’t forget about the backward knob in the bathroom.” Aunt Camellia’s knitting needles were clicking along.
“And make sure to pull your door closed all the way so Lord Byron can’t run amok in your room.” Aunt Mags shot the parrot a narrow-eyed glare.
“He only runs amok with you,” Aunt Camellia pointed out.
“We do look alike.” Shelby leaned forward to put two puzzle pieces together. “I’ll make sure to close my door—just in case.”
Aunt Mags swallowed hard. “And when Rosemary comes home, everyone will still have their privacy.” She smiled. “I can’t wait to have all you girls under one roof.”
“Me, too. It’s been way too long since Rosemary’s last visit.” Tansy sipped her wine. “Maybe we should head to California and drag her home for a while.”
Aunt Camellia put her knitting down, glanced at each of them, and frowned at Mags. “Why don’t I get to have any wine?”
“It gives you a headache. Remember?” Aunt Mags held out the bottle of wine.
“Oh right.” Aunt Camellia went back to her knitting. “I want to be clearheaded and sharp for tomorrow.”
“I have a feeling it will be a good day.” Aunt Mags raised her cup in a silent toast.
“I hope you’re right.” Not just for the honey competition, but for her and Dane. She couldn’t leave it like this. She took a sip of wine and the words spilled out. “I have all of you and Nicole—who does he have?”Me. He has me.Not that he knew that. “He’s dealing with so much and I... I let him down. How can I love him and be so quick to believe the worst thing about him?”
The entire kitchen came to a screeching halt. No sound. No movement. Nothing.
Tansy took a deep breath, mortified that she’d tossed it all out there like that. She eyed her wine. “Boy, this stuff is strong.”
“Tansy, dear, you love, who, exactly?” Aunt Mags asked, at the same time Aunt Camellia said, “Of course you do, Tansy. And he loves you, too.”
