“And you are, sweetheart. But you’re going to stay a helper for now rather than the cook.” At Willow’s crestfallen expression, Beth said, “You need to put all your energy into your schoolwork and being a ballerina.”
Tilting her head to the side, Willow mulled over Beth’s response. Then, as she perked up, Willow turned to me. “Can my leotard have sparkles on it?” she asked.
“I don’t see why not.”
“And I want a pink tutu. Do I have to wear white tights or can I have pink?” As she rambled off more and more questions, her plate remained untouched.
“Finish your green beans,” Deacon instructed gruffly, showing a rare moment of his paternal side.
“Okaaay,” Willow mumbled.
Deacon’s brows rose while fire flashed in his eyes. “What did you say?”
Willow tucked her head to her chin, refusing to meet his eye. “Okay.”
“You say ‘yes, sir’ when answering me.”
“Don’t be so hard on her,” Rev said.
Deacon pinned Rev with a hard glare. “Don’t tell me how to parent my kid.”
“She’s only five, Deacon,” Rev challenged.
At the rising voices of her father and uncle, Willow began shrinking down in her chair. Desperate to soothe her distress and ease the building tension between the brothers, I blurted, “So which one of you Malloy boys is going to take me for a ride on his motorcycle? ’Cause, you know, I’m a motorcycle virgin.”
Rev’s fork clattered noisily onto his plate as he stared, dumbfounded by my outburst, while Deacon’s finger froze in midpoint at Rev. Bishop started coughing on the large bite of corn bread he’d swallowed. He reached for his iced tea and drained it in a long gulp.
“I do believe my request has rendered you all speechless,” I mused.
“I think it’s hearing the word ‘virgin’ come out of your lips,” Bishop replied with a cheeky grin.
“What’s a virgin?” Willow asked.
I giggled at the look of horror that crossed all three Malloy brothers’ faces at Willow’s question. “Something you’ll find out about when you’re older,” I answered, letting the boys off the hook. My response elicited a sigh of relief from the men and a nod of approval from Beth.
For the remainder of the dinner, Willow concentrated on finishing her plate rather than asking any more questions. When she was done, she glanced cautiously at her father. “Did I do good, Deacon?” Her voice quavered a little as she waited for praise. I wondered why she didn’t call him “Dad.” I guessed it was something she was working up to.
At her question, Deacon’s gruff expression momentarily softened. “Yeah, you did good, kid. Now go take your plate and rinse it off.”
As Willow started for the sink, my gaze locked on Deacon’s.
“I know I may have seemed … a little harsh about her eating, but she was pretty malnourished when she came here.”
Knowing the situation Willow had lived in with her mother, I wasn’t too surprised by that information. “I agree that she needs to eat her vegetables and she needs to show you respect. My father asked the same thing of me when I was Willow’s age.” I offered him a smile. “I think maybe your delivery could use just a bit of work, but other than that, you’re doing very well.”
A smirk curved across his lips. “Thank you, Miss Evans.”
“You’re welcome.”
Beth rose from her seat. “All right, boys. It’s time to clean up.”
A chorus of groans echoed around the table. “At least let me do the dishes since you were so kind to invite me to dinner.”
Beth smiled. “And deprive my sons of the task?”
I laughed at Bishop’s aggravated grunt and Deacon’s roll of his eyes. “No, I wouldn’t want to do that at all.”
“You gonna read me my bedtime story, Uncle Rev?” Willow asked.
Before he could reply, I said, “You know what? I bet your daddy would love to read you a story tonight.”
Deacon’s eyes narrowed at my comment while Willow’s widened in surprise. “Really? You want to read to me, Deacon?” she asked.
“Yeah, sure, kid. Why not?”
A beaming smile lit up her face. “Okay. I’ll go brush my teeth and get my pajamas on.”
“Whatever,” Deacon replied.
Trying to ignore his glare, I turned to Beth. “Thank you again for dinner.”
“You’re more than welcome. Feel free to join us anytime. You have a standing invitation every night,” Beth said.
“That’s very sweet of you.”
As I started to the foyer, Deacon stepped in front of me. “I’ll walk you back to your car.”
I couldn’t hide my surprise at his uncharacteristically thoughtful gesture. Of course, I also hoped he wasn’t going to go off on me about my bedtime-story suggestion. “Um, thank you,” I mumbled as I followed him out the door.
The flame from his cigarette lighter lit the way for us in the dark. The sound of Deacon’s boots clomping across the floorboards filled the silence between us. After we pounded down the stairs, Deacon turned to me. “You know, you should really go for Rev.”
“Excuse me?” I questioned in surprise. After all, that was the last thing I’d expected out of him. A harsh “You need to mind your own fucking business when it comes to me and my kid” was more what I’d expected.
Deacon took a long drag on his cigarette. “He’s into you—I can tell.”