Lemonade Book Novels & Stories

I wanted him to be able to touch me easily. I went to the kitchen and made a big pitcher of cold lemonade. I put a lot of ice in it. I walked out to the backyard. Leo was already there. He was moving a large pile of wood. He was not wearing a shirt today either. His back was wide and strong. I could see the sweat making his skin shine like gold.

She quickly schooled her face though and retook my arm. “My hero.” I smiled. “I told you I’d keep you safe. I’m the best bodyguard you’ll ever have.” She laughed but there was a hitch in it. Taking a breath and walking forward, I pointed out the food court. “Alright. I wanted to grab a large lemonade. There is this place; it sells only corn dogs, which seems silly but they also have the best lemonade! You can put different flavors into it. It’s crazy! By far my favorite is the cherry.”

I said, handing him the large gift Damien and I had decided to give him. Leo unwrapped it eagerly and saw a beautifully bound book. On the cover, a colorful illustration showed a boy with dark hair standing beside a loyal puppy, a castle in the background. "Leo and the Great Adventures," Leo read out loud, opening it and reading the pages of the story about him. "It's a story about you, Leo," I said softly. Leo flipped through the pages, his eyes widening as he saw himself in the illustrations-playing with Scout, going to school, standing brave in the face of challenges. He paused on one page, his finger tracing the image of his family.

The system chimed again. Mission failed. Penalty: share one embarrassing childhood story. Gloss gasped delightedly. “No.” “Yes,” he insisted. “This is manipulation.” “It is vacation bonding.” He crossed his arms expectantly. I sighed. “When I was twelve,” I began reluctantly, “I attempted to start a lemonade enterprise.” “That is not embarrassing.” “I created a comprehensive pricing model.” “Of course you did.” “I accounted for supply costs and projected revenue.” “Adorable.” “No one bought any.” Gloss laughed brightly.

"Veronica Leech once came to my office with a very old book that had several torn pages. While she discussed with me about the contract, I noticed the book and asked her about it because it looked very old and ratty. She simply shrugged me off and said it was a family cooking recipe book that her grandmother had passed on to her. You see, I wasn't convinced but I let it slide anyway" Liam said, running his fingers through his hair. "What was the name of the book?" I asked. "The twin moons" ********

Leon nodded "go ahead order whatever you would like. I'll take my usual Debbie." "What's a chocimi shake" asked Mackayla? "It's chocolate, cinnamon, whole milk and mint ice cream mixed it's very good." "Okay I will have one of those with a small glass of apple juice please." "Okay I will be back shortly with your drinks." As she walked away a young man walked up and set five glasses of water on the table, "hey Leon" he said. "Hey Toby" Leon said back "what's up with you today?"

“But your uncle was the one who sent me the letter about you and your father.” Emmie’s body grew numb, and the teacup slipped out of her hand, falling to the table and shattering. Her chest tightened as if a house had fallen on it. Tears built in her eyes as she shook her head, not believing what she’d just heard. This had to be some kind of mistake! “Napoleon Bonaparte? But…he knew that didn’t happen. He knew… Why… I don’t understand.”

Then he reached out something to her. "This? A book?" Leah asked. "Yes. This is your book. I know since a name is written there. I felt it was very important to you." Then Lewis handed it to her while he excused himself. Both Lewis and Georgia walked away. Leah on her table touched the cover of the book. "This book is well kept. Hmmm... Let's see." Leah said. She felt that book is something. [Will Leah open it? ] [ To be continued... ]

I was learning not to ask questions that did not have answers. She was nineteen now. Almost twenty. The months were slipping through my fingers like water. --- July 4th came. Rick came over. Chloe came over. Matthew and Priya flew in from Seattle. The house was full for the first time since Christmas. Laura made lemonade. Not from a mix. From actual lemons. She was proud of herself. She did not say it, but I could tell. The way she set the pitcher on the table. The way she looked at it like it was a trophy.

Andros smiling like he’d just stolen dessert together with and the secret recipe. The next page smelled faintly of orange peel tucked there in 1985 and still making its fragrant point. Lucia calls lemons by name and sets down two glasses. I think she is conjuring weather. I smiled despite myself. Some women bake; others rewrite climate. I turned another page. The ink darkened—a slower hand, or maybe just a deeper thought.