The Science of Loving by Candace Vianna Page B

final kiss on my shoulder. “Looks like dinners almost ready. Let’s see what’s going on with Mom.” Uncoiling, he led me to the camper door. “ Mami , what do you need us to do?”
    “Can you set up the music, mijo ?” She passed a box with plates and flatware out to me, topping it with a folded tablecloth. “And Angie, if you could please set the table?”
    Stewart smiled, reaching for the tablecloth when I arrived at the canopy. After snapping it open and settling it on the table, Danny and I circled, laying out place settings. The scattered lanterns glowed white-blue around the perimeter as strains of soft guitar music drifted over while the fire pit burned merrily, adding an occasional pop.
    “It’s really beautiful here; peaceful. Thanks for letting me come.”
    Stewart pulled me into a hug, casually kissing my forehead as if he'd been doing it my whole life. “We’re glad to have you anytime; although, it probably won’t be quite so peaceful tomorrow when the place starts filling up.” He motioned me to a chair then lit a couple candles, adding to the soft light coming from the twinkling strings twined about the canopy’s frame.
    “You know, I think this is a camping first,” Danny said. “Something actually repaired instead of broken more, no accidental fires, no blood, no girly tears from Biggie on the way to the hospital.”
    “Those were not girly tears,” Mat said, setting a platter of spaghetti on the table. “Those were macho tears of disbelief.”
    I tried not to ogle when shadows caressed his retreating form, and a guilty blush stole up my cheeks me when Danny plopped down next to me; smirking. When he returned, following Carmen with two large pitchers and a basket of bread, he gave Danny an annoyed look.
    “What? She was my friend first.” Danny pouted.
    “Danny.” Carmen didn't say anything more; her tone said it all. I could see where Mat got ‘The Voice . ’
    “Fine.” Danny huffed. Then winked at me before moving over.
    The food smelled great as Stewart started the platters around the table, first serving himself and then holding them for me. Something loosened inside me, and I felt hungry for the first time since that awful scene at the bar. The bread was bathed in garlic butter; the lettuce was crispy and succulent; the pasta had just the right amount of herby tang. We ate quietly, enjoying our first bites of dinner; I guess I wasn't the only one who was hungry. I drank deeply, discovering the tart lime of an icy margarita in my glass. Perhaps it was the talk with my dad, or the relaxed company around the table, but for the first time in what seemed like forever, I felt a little lighter.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER SIX
    Flirting With the Dark Side
     
     

     
    Maybe it was the margaritas—Mom’s drinks were lethal—because Angie was noticeably less guarded, joining the conversation with an easy smile. Danny’d refilled the empty margarita pitchers with blowjobs for dessert, or as Mom called them, “A bitter-sweet experience in the aftermath of tamed hungers when lingering cravings still held sway.” That was my mom, the queen of the poetic innuendo. It was one of the many reasons she was so devastating in the courtroom. And going by Angie’s blush, the allusion wasn’t lost on her.
    “Come woman, let’s sway.” Mom laughed when Dad dragged her into his arms, jerking her close then began swaying to the bossa nova beats of Stan Getz’s saxophone.
    “They’ve always been like this,” I told Angie with a smile. “As in love now, as they were when they first met.”
    “More,” Dad said, dipping Mom back, so she grinned at us upside down.
    “Sway with me baby,” I said, stealing some of my dad’s moves. What? He’s smooth.
    I swept Angie into my arms, molding her to my body, pressing her face to my chest. I towered over all my dance partners, and hunching over would just make us both uncomfortable. I spun us around keeping it light as one song