All I Have

“I see what you’re trying to do here.”

“And what’s that?” Her voice wasn’t even breathless. Go, her.

He held up his hand to do the gesture again, but stopped midway. His baffled look turned steely and grave. “I’ve got too much to lose to let you beat me. A nice ass and breasts aren’t going to suddenly win you a bunch of customers. If you haven’t noticed, most of the market’s customers are families and women, not single guys looking for a hot girl to hit on.”

Oh, she was so not flattered that he’d said she had a nice ass and breasts. Or insinuated she was the hot girl. She was not at all pleased he’d noticed. In fact, it was totally demeaning.

She’d work on her outrage later.

“Yeah, families, Dell.” Mia pointed to the sign Anna had made her. Pruitt Farms, Family-Friendly Fruits and Veggies from Our Land to Your Table. “And I’m guessing a family with wife, husband and kids are going to come over to our booth with people fully clothed and kid-friendly activities. Free kid-friendly activities, at that.”

Dell’s jaw set tighter. “So what’s with ditching the baggy clothes if you’re so family oriented?”

Mia worked up her best dismissive smile. “Maybe I’m trolling for dates. Maybe I wanted to look different for fun. Maybe it’s a business tactic. Maybe it’s not. All you need to know is it’s none of your business.”

He took a deep breath, nostrils flaring with the effort. “You won’t win, Mia.” He shook his head and walked away.

Mia grinned. His words were a lie. He kept coming up to her demanding to know what was going on. He kept getting irritated by her tactics.

She was absolutely winning, and it felt awesome.

CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_ddc515e8-a657-5fde-a97a-a85e45c432ee)

“DOYOUKNOW how many calories are in one small square?”

“Moooom,” Cara groaned. “Don’t ruin this for everyone.”

“Well, it’s never too early to start being careful about your health,” Mom said primly, taking a sip of her milk. Skim milk. “There are ways to make desserts healthier.”

“It’s Grandma’s recipe!”

“Remember when Grandpa said they used to feed skim milk to the pigs when he was growing up?” Anna said with a grin, causing Mom to roll her eyes and huff out an annoyed breath.

“Yes, we did,” Dad said, taking a defiant bite of brownie. Dessert was about the only thing he ever got defiant over.

Mia picked at the brownies Cara had brought over. Like everything Cara made, they were delicious, but ever since the market this morning she’d felt...weird.

Buoyed, yes. But, and she hated this but, Dell saying she was hot kept playing itself over and over in her mind, and her stomach felt all jittery and nervous and not at all interested in food.

She did not want to care that Dell said she had nice...assets. Why would she care? Why would that please her? It shouldn’t. It was all very unstrong, unfeminist, unbusinesswoman of her.

But she was pleased. She couldn’t help it. A guy thought she was hot. That had never happened before. At least not that she knew of. The fact it was Dell?

You are an idiot.

“Earth to Mia.”

Jostled out of her annoying, embarrassing thoughts, Mia looked up at Cara.

“Ready to go?” She nodded toward the door, the international Cara symbol for “get me away from Mom before I lose it.”

“Yup.” Separation was definitely best when Cara got that squirrelly look about her. Mia didn’t feel like playing peacemaker tonight. She wasn’t sure what she felt like doing, but it wasn’t that.

They got up from the table, offering Anna hugs and Dad goodbyes while Mom followed, the typical anxiety waving off her.

“Why don’t you girls stay the night?” Mom engulfed Mia in a cinnamon-scented hug. She lowered her voice. “Sweetie, next time maybe you should wear one of those—what are they called?—camisole things under that shirt. It’s a little low cut. You wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea.”

“Maybe that’s exactly what she wants,” Cara whispered, earning herself a jab in the side.

“What, dear?”

“Nothing.” Mia pushed Cara toward the door. “Ignore her. Do you want us to take the leftover brownies?”

“Oh, yes. Your father will inhale them before the night’s over if you don’t. Maybe next time you try my trick of making them with applesauce? Adding a little zucchini? It cuts back on the fat and—”

“It’s Grandma’s rec—”

Mia discreetly moved in between Mom and Cara. “Yes, Mom. Applesauce. Will do.”

“Oh, I hate you two girls living on your own.” Their mother wrung her hands, fretting next to the door as Mia and Cara shrugged on their coats. For two years Mia and Cara had shared an apartment. Still, every time they left the Pruitt farmhouse, Mom worried over the two young women living alone.

Cara rolled her eyes and groaned. “We’re only ten minutes away, Mom. Two years, and a serial killer hasn’t gotten us yet.”

Mia pushed Cara again. “You’re not helping.”

Mom clucked her tongue. “Stay the night. Silly to drive all the way home when it’s dark out.”

“We’re only ten minutes away,” Mia repeated gently.

Mom took a deep breath and let it out, offering a pained smile. “All right. All right. We’ll see you in the morning.” Cara and Mia waved as they stepped out the door.

“Don’t forget to get one of those camisoles, Mia!” Mom called after them. “And make sure to lock both locks on your door. Oh, and lock your car doors, even when you’re driving.”

Cara groaned into the evening quiet. “Seriously, how did we turn out normal? How did they even manage to produce three children? Never mind—I don’t want to know the answer to that.”

Mia climbed into the driver’s seat of her truck. Cara and Anna were on that normal spectrum, but she wasn’t always sure she was. How long had Mom’s outer monologue been Mia’s inner dialogue? She’d learned to manage the anxiety, push away the worry about what other people might think or do, but it wasn’t as if the voice had disappeared.

Cara turned in her seat, smiling weirdly as Mia pulled out onto the highway.

“Okay, so hear me out before you totally shoot me down, ’kay?” Cara practically bounced in her seat.

“Oh, God.”

“It’s Saturday night. We rocked it at the market today. You look like someone I wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen with. I don’t have to work at the salon tomorrow.” Cara clutched Mia’s arm. “Let’s go to a bar.”

Mia laughed, shaking off Cara’s grip so she could have both hands on the steering wheel. “Right.”

“I’m serious! It’ll be fun. A few drinks. We find a few cute guys to chat up. Maybe you give a guy your number.”