Tymber Dalton - It’s a Sweet Life

She snuggled tightly against his side. “Is it in a hot tub?”

He laughed. “No. Why?”

“I’ve always wondered what that’s like. Or in a swimming pool.

Or even the ocean. When I still had a gym membership, before I opened the bakery, I would go work out for a little while and then soak in the hot tub to help my muscles loosen up. I wish I could have one.”

“Hmm.”

“What’s that hmm for?”

He shook his head and smiled down at her. “Nothing, baby. You just rest up and feel better.”

142 Tymber

Dalton

Charles and Ken both grew adept at baking and decorating pumpkin, pecan, and apple pies as Thanksgiving approached and people got their orders placed. Libbie sold them both fresh and frozen.

Admittedly, it was nice having two extra sets of hands instead of just one. It meant that even on her bad days, her fatigue wasn’t as bad.

And apparently a cleaning fairy had started taking care of her apartment. She’d go up for lunch to find the kitchen clean, the litter pan scooped, laundry clean and folded on the bed, and other things.

Neither man would own up to it, but she loved them even more for the care.

For her part, she didn’t ask for a discussion of “the future,” which she thought about as a vague, hopefully nonexistent theoretical event that would never arrive. Neither man ever spoke about leaving despite only having a six-month lease.

And Grover invited all three of them to come to his house for Thanksgiving dinner, although he did give her a caveat. “You might want to warn your men that Derrick’s mother-in-law has a stick wedged so far up her ass you can see it when she yawns. She’s not afraid to loudly condemn people to Hell when she don’t even know them.”

Libbie had never met the woman, but had heard stories about her.

She felt sorry for Derrick, but at least the woman lived in Atlanta and they didn’t have to put up with her most of the time.

I wonder how many other people out there will hassle me or the guys?

The Tuesday before Thanksgiving, despite a morning rush of It’s a Sweet Life 143

people picking up special orders, the customers slowed down to a trickle by ten. She’d shooed Charles out of the bakery because she’d overheard him discussing with Ken that he had an errand to run, and they were caught up on the daily list.

She also felt the urge to talk. Inside the bakery, she sometimes felt protected from the big, bad outside world. She didn’t have a lot of socializing other than with Grover and his family, and Mandaline and Sachi and a few others at Many Blessings. None of them gave a damn about Libbie’s unconventional arrangement.

And what kind of future do we have? The longer they went without talking about it, the more she worried about admitting to the men how she felt. Neither had yet to utter the L-word. Then again, neither had she. Did they see this as a fling that would end when the lease was up, or were they waiting to say anything until she did first?

Or would she admit how she felt and get her heart shot down in the process?

Still, Grover’s gentle but serious comments once again reminded her that yes, she had a fantasy come true, but it was one that most of her community might seriously frown upon. And one that could easily lead her to a shattering heartbreak that would make her divorce feel like a splinter in comparison to a serious bodily impalement.

I wonder what Mandaline’s doing. She called out to Grover, “I’ll be back in a few,” and headed out the door.

Apparently, Libbie’s shop wasn’t the only one in town having a slow day. When she walked across the square, she found Mandaline and Sachi were the only ones in the New Age shop.

“Hey,” Mandaline greeted her when she walked in. “How you doing?”

“Do you have a few minutes?” Libbie asked. “To talk?”

A small furrow momentarily appeared in Mandaline’s brow before her skin smoothed again. “Sure. Let’s go in back. Sachi, can you watch the store for me?”

Sachi, who was engaged with an amethyst rune set, didn’t look 144 Tymber Dalton

up. She waved her hand at the empty storefront. “Sure. It’s packed in here and you want to goldbrick.”

Libbie didn’t miss the smile on her face.

Mandaline laughed. “When’s your client coming?”

Sachi glanced at the clock on the wall. “Two hours. You have plenty of time. I’ll holler if we get an early Black Friday rush in here.” She snorted.

Mandaline led Libbie through a beaded curtain and down a short hallway to a small private room. A tall, antique iron floor lamp with an imitation Tiffany glass lampshade stood in one corner and cast warm light through the room. A short bookshelf on one wall held many tomes new and old, mostly concerning New Age and mystical topics.

Mandaline indicated Libbie take a seat at one of the two chairs at the small, round table, which was covered with a fringed tablecloth in swirling rust and turquoise patterns. Before Mandaline sat, she turned to a white, antique cabinet behind her, which had glass-front doors.

From the top shelf, her finger paused over several different small boxes before she chose one and removed it. When Mandaline turned back to the table, Libbie saw the box was a Tarot deck.

“I didn’t mean for you to give me a reading,” Libbie said.

Mandaline waved her objections away. “For you, no charge. And since you’re looking for an ear and advice, the best advice I can give you comes from here.” She tapped the deck’s box with an unpolished fingernail. “You strike me as a Celtic Dragon Tarot kind of soul.”

Mandaline removed the cards from the box and smoothly shuffled them with practiced fingers. “So talk to me, girlie.”

Libbie had a hard time taking her eyes off the cards quickly flowing through her friend’s fingers. “You…” She lowered her voice.

“You have two guys.”

A sultry smile curled Mandaline’s lips. “Yeesss. It doesn’t make you a slut. It makes you a smart woman for seeing a golden opportunity. Lots of people are poly. It’s not just something that It’s a Sweet Life 145

happens in those sexy books you read.” She set the deck on the table in front of Libbie. “Cut it.”

Libbie reached out, hesitating only briefly before pinching the deck partway down and moving the top stack beside the lower half.

Mandaline quickly reached out with the speed of a Vegas pit boss and scooped the cards up, regrouping them into one pile with the cut lower deck on top. She pulled the top card and flipped it right-side up, laying it on the tablecloth in front of Libbie.

The bottom of the card read Three of Cups. On it, a dragon stared at three chalices in what appeared to be shallow water.

Libbie looked up and saw Mandaline grinning ear to ear.

“What?”

“In this deck, this card usually signifies prosperity, good times on the horizon.” Her grin broadened. “Three of Cups? Seriously? Three?

Do you not see the significance?”

Libbie felt her face flush. “It’s just one card,” she mumbled.

Mandaline cocked her head to one side “Are you looking for permission to be in a triad? Because you don’t need it from me or anyone else.”

“I don’t know what I want or what I’m looking for.” Her gaze fell to her lap, where she twisted her hands in the hem of her T-shirt. “All I know is the thought of losing them breaks my heart. And it scares the crap out of me that I’m this much in love with them this soon when I barely know them. And I can’t even tell them.”

“Can’t, or won’t because you’re worried what they might or might not say?”

She didn’t answer, but she stared at Mandaline.

Her friend’s smile faded. “We all have to take chances. That’s what separates us from those who’ve moved on to the Summerland.

Or Heaven. Or Valhalla or reincarnation or take your pick of hereafters.”

“I don’t know what I believe.”

“Then all the more reason to take chances in this life, no? If we’re 146 Tymber Dalton

all wrong and it’s only one time around this existence followed by a forever dirt nap, we shouldn’t waste a moment of it worrying about what others think of us as long as we aren’t harming anyone else in the process.”

She flipped over another card and placed it, faceup, next to the first.

The bottom read 8 - Strength. On it, a woman in a yellow dress caressed the chin of a large, orange dragon while several smaller dragons gathered around her feet.

Mandaline let out an amused snort. Libbie thought she muttered “fuck me” under her breath, but couldn’t be sure.

“What?” she asked.

“In this deck, Strength means you should use your intuition. Have the courage to take a stand and follow through with it, basically.”

Mandaline lifted her gaze to Libbie’s. “We can do this all day, but I can already tell you what the cards will keep saying.”

“What?”

“Shit or get off the pot.” She grinned and turned the Strength card over so its back was visible. The background of the card was a marbled light grey, with a round, pewter-colored symbol in the middle. Three stylized animals surrounded a center of three spirals.

“What’s that?” Libbie asked.

“It’s a type of triskele,” Mandaline said. “Tri. Three.” All that was missing was the audible duh. “Why are you afraid to let this happen?”

Mandaline asked.

Libbie finally blurted it out. “Because my ex lied to me and cheated on me. I ended up divorcing him, and just the thought of both of them lying to me breaks my heart. How do I survive it if they really do it?”