“The emergency landing isn’t school news,” I point out. “Do you think they’ll let you run it?”
I don’t want to destroy her dreams, but there’s no guarantee George will come back to the diner anytime soon. The few times he’s stopped by in the past—except for the last visit with Shawn—he’s only stayed long enough to order food to go. And then he waits as close to the door as possible, head bent over his phone, not even acknowledging my existence with a nod. Every time I’ve accidentally caught his eye he looks away quickly, as if he thinks I won’t recognizehim. Then, when Sally or Sam hands him his food, he books it out the door like he’s worried his private jet will leave without him.
I’m surprised George even bothers to stop here for lunch when he knows I’m on the staff.
“It totally is. For one, you all flew over the school before you landed.”
“We did?” I was too panicked to notice exactly what was under us.
The beads in her long braids click against one another as she vigorously nods her head. “And you’re an alumnus. He saved a Beaver!”
“I don’t identify as a Beaver,” I mutter, thinking of the well-worn mascot that would gyrate at our high school football games. My bet is that costume had fleas.
“Come on, Beth. Can youpleaseask him? For me?” Riann tries her best at a cherubic face, and with a set of dimpled cheeks and the biggest brown eyes I’ve ever encountered, she does a decent job.
I’m not a kid person. I mean, I can converse with them well enough to take their order and not make them cry, but I don’t beg moms to let me hold their newborn babies or get gooey when a toddler saysI wuv you.
Give me a grumpy dog who hates the world over a child any day.
But Riann is different. She’s part of the diner family. Her mom used to be a waitress here before she skipped town, leaving Riann’s dad to raise the girl on his own. Mr.Howard is super sweet, soft-spoken, and kind. But he also works maintenance at the local paper mill for longer hours than schools keep the kids, and childcare is expensive.
So for the past three years, Cornfield’s has been Riann’s after-school care for the price of a grilled cheese and a Sprite.
Sally tutors Riann in math—the teen’s least-favorite subject.
Sam reads over her papers to pick out spelling errors.
Billy cuts her grilled cheeses into funny shapes and shouts corny jokes to her through the pass.
Darla teaches her how to throw a punch.
And I listen to all the gossip Riann collects because I’m nosy.
But nowI’mthe hot gossip.
The bell of the diner door rings as I debate whether to make a promise I’m not sure I can keep. Although, I guess asking is easy enough to follow through on. And I’ll make it clear that George can say no. From the way he ignored the few reporters that have contacted us so far, I assume he has no interest in any kind of press on the event.
“Fine.” I relent. “I have George’s number. After my shift, I’ll text him and ask.” Her eyes take on an eager light, and I hold up a finger in warning. “That doesn’t mean he’ll say yes.”
“I bet he will,” a familiar voice taunts behind me, and I whirl around to realize the new arrival is none other than my brother.
Shawn grins, and I roll my eyes to cover up how nice it is to get another unexpected visit.
“Did they close all the dinner places in the city?” I cock a hip and rest my fist on it. “Or are you on your way out of town?”
“No and no.” He steps in to give me a hug, then holds out his fist for Riann to bump.
Shock of all shocks, she does. I guess Shawn is cool, according to young people. Does he really need even more going for him in life?
“I was craving a Shawn Special. And George said he could go for a Reuben.”
“George is here?”
“The hot pilot is here?” Riann asks at the same time I do, and a few levels louder.
Shawn’s grin grows delighted. “Hot pilot, huh?”
“Yeah,” Riann doubles down on her description, even though Icatch a flush darkening the tops of her amber cheeks. “Sally said he looks like Channing Tatum.”
