The hostess gave them a booth by the window and lit the candle in the middle of the table.
As they read the menu, he said, “Why’d the text bother you?”
“What?” Elizabeth glanced up, her eyes wide, reflecting the candlelight.
The server appeared for their order. “Sodas,” Ryder said, checking with Elizabeth. “Garlic rolls and?—”
“Large pepperoni and mushroom.” Elizabeth handed her menu to the server. Then to Ryder. “I remember that was your favorite back in the day.”
“I believe it was yours too.”
She never answered his question, so he let it go and went with small talk—“How was your day?”—until the drinks and garlic rolls arrived.
After one roll, Elizabeth said, “I’m wait-listed at Wharton.” She peered at him. “No one knows. Well, except you.”
“I see. And your friend is headed to Kellogg.” Now he understood why the text bothered her.
“I know her success doesn’t make me a failure, but it feels like it.”
“Who knows what goes on in admissions offices, Elizabeth. There are so many variables. Did they give a reason for wait-listing you?”
“They don’t tell you. Even more puzzling, the notice arrived after I visited the campus and the admissions office. I thought for sure I was in, you know? They like the personal touch, but—” She tore a small piece from the garlic roll and popped it in her mouth. After a swig of soda, she sat back with a sigh. “I contracted Epstein–Barr my sophomore year at MIT. But I kept plowing ahead. Barely. I was exhausted, in my bed every free moment, sleeping. I had some pain and inflammation. By the summer, I was down twenty pounds, pale, weak, feverish. I thought I’d get better over the summer. I didn’t. The doctors ran all kinds of tests, but nothing was conclusive.” Her eyes glistened with tears. “Not knowing was worse than anything.”
“So you were sidelined.”
“For two years. Went to more doctors than I care to remember until one figured it out. The homeopathic doctor did a lot to help me recover my immune system, but the virus never goes away. So I’m told. And I was really scared. You read stuff online, and I had one foot in the grave.” By the look on her face, she’d never said that out loud before. “I don’t want to be scared, Ryder. I don’t want to feel that fear, that helplessness, again.”
“I’m surprised your granny isn’t all over you about working so much.”
“She is, but I’m careful. I take my supplements, but I need to eat better.” She snatched another garlic roll. “But tonight is about fun, right? So here’s looking at you, kid.”
“And you.” Ryder reached for a roll of his own. “My boss is on my case. Someone ordered a bunch of cherrywood, and he thinks I’m using it to fix up the fire tower. Or maybe my own place, but I didn’t order it. He’s also alluding to me being behind the illegal loggers.”
“So you threw yourself down a ravine to look innocent?” Elizabeth said.
“Yes, but don’t tell.” Ryder grinned.
“Seriously, what do you think is going on? There’s nothing worse than being falsely accused.” Elizabeth looked away, as if considering her next comment. “I wouldn’t have said anything, but Ryder, your name is on an invoice at the shop for cherrywood.”
“When? I couldn’t have ordered it.”
“The spring. Grant said they’d never cut cherry for the TWRA. It’s used for fine furniture or flooring.”
“I promise, Elizabeth, that order did not come from me.” He shoved the last bit of the roll in his mouth. “I got a job offer in Colorado. Maybe I should go if—” He caught himself reasoning out loud.
“They’ll really think you’re guilty if you leave.” Elizabeth sat back as the server set down their pizza. “Besides, you just moved here.”
“Are you saying you’ll miss me?” Ryder handed her a plate with a large slice.
“Well, no, I mean, yes, but it’s not Hearts Bend without you.” She bit into pepperoni, cheese, and sauce.
“Funny, I think it’s not Hearts Bend without you.”
What was happening? The romantic atmosphere of Angelo’s, that’s what. The candlelight, the soft glow, Dean Martin singing “That’s Amore,” and she’s suddenly hinting to Ryder Donovan she’d miss him. Why did she care where he lived? Good luck to him.
“—not sure I can leave. Hearts Bend gets in your blood. Never mind my childhood.” Ryder reached for another slice of pizza.
“I remember your parents traveled a lot,” Elizabeth said. “How’re they doing?”
