“Fine. Might as well match my mood.”
Lily’s tentative smile builds into a grin as my mother’s words sink in. “Black, then. Got it.”
My mother doesn’t miss a beat. “You’re observant. That’s rare in people these days. Most young people are too glued to their phones to read the room, but they can read comments on social media.”
I sigh, shoulders tensing with my mother’s ability to avoid any filter and the uncanny ability to turn any simple conversation into an opinionated one.
Lily’s lips thin into a tight-lipped smile, and she shrugs. “I only have a phone for work. Deleted any and all social media from it years ago.” She fidgets with her uniform, tugging the wrinkled fabric away from her.
No socials and only a phone for work? She didn’t mention keeping in touch with family or friends.Does she have family?I find myself wondering. She’s not from here, so where does she stay? Who does she hang out with?
Lily clears her throat, and I realize I’ve been staring—studying—her.
“I’ll have a water,” I say.
With a nod, Lily tosses two menus down and spins on her heel to get our drinks.
My mother pulls one toward her, pretending to ponder it, but she can’t hide her curiosity. “How do you know her?”
My mother’s expression is smug, which is telling, but I offer her the truth. “She was the girl I helped a few weeks ago. The one who fell during the storm and hit her head.”
“And since when do you come here?”
I give her an exasperated look.
“She’s pretty …”
“Mom. Don’t.”
She holds her hands up, surrendering the conversation. “I’m just saying …”
“I just wanted to make sure she was okay. Ran into Old Man John while I was here and ate with him. Morgan came by and sat with us. It wasn’t a thing. I just wanted to make sure she was okay.”
“Must be so. You’ve said it twice now.” My mother drops both her hands into her lap and leans against the leather booth behind her. “You’re always looking out for others, Noah. When will you look out for you? You put everyone else before yourself … I just don’t want to see you alone. Especially because … well, because …”
I’m dying.I fill in the words I know are on the tip of her tongue.
The tension in her features fades, her gaze settles firmly on mine with an unmistakable gentleness, and the corners of her mouth turn up ever so slightly. It’s rare, in my mother’scondition, to find warmth radiating from her, but her expression is soft, smoothed over. I know she doesn’t want me to be alone. Hell,Idon’t want to be alone.
“Okay …” Lily’s voice interrupts the silence festering between my mother and me, and I glance down at the menu to randomly select something for lunch. “What are you thinking?”
Before I can answer my mother chimes in, the haughty tone in her voice reappearing. “What do you recommend? Or should I just close my eyes and point with my finger, hoping it doesn’t land on something that tastes like tar.”
Lily’s eyes widen, and for the first time a genuine laugh bubbles out of her. It’s startling in its brightness, radiant and raw, just like her eyes. There’s no reluctance, only the melodic sound that carries an edge of surprise, even to her. Her typical guarded expression, full of tension, melts away, and her lashes lower into something open and vulnerable. I watch, transfixed and unable to take my eyes off the tilt of her lips.
When her laughter dies, she brings her pen to her lips, tapping as she considers. “Well, the burger’s good. Fries are decent if you like grease.”
My mother smiles. “I’ll have a side salad, no dressing. It’s about all I can eat these days. With my luck I’ll end up having a heart attack, considering I never smoked a day in my life and miraculously ended up with terminal lung cancer.”
Lily grimaces and then swallows, glimpsing the tubing in my mother’s nose. There are a few seconds of awkward silence before Lily continues.
“And for you, Ranger?”
I shake my head, utterly uncomfortable with how hearing that name from her makes my face heat. “I’ll do the turkey club,” I say.
“Fries?”
“Sure.”
