“She’s funny and a good hugger. Sounds like a keeper.” She gives me one of her looks over the pouring of the first glass of tea. I roll my eyes and reach forward, taking the glass and handing it to Brynn.
“Tell me more about the business,” Brynn says, sipping her tea.
The sun dips lower and sneaks across the porch, bursting through Brynn’s golden hair and making it shine. Her throat bobs as she swallows and I have an urge to press my nose to her neck, taking in her sweet scent. I’ve never responded to a kiss the way I did to Brynn’s yesterday. This girl has something I didn’t even know I was missing because I’ve never had it before.
Mom launches into the story of Vale Handyman Services. “There I was, pregnant with Connor, when David came home and said he’d been let go. He told me not to worry, that he had a plan. And he did. It started out with just a few houses, and then I made flyers and attached them to every public surface I could find. Business was booming after that, and it hasn’t stopped since.”
“That’s great.” Brynn nods and smiles. “American spirit and ingenuity.”
Mom leans forward, and places bent elbows on the table. “What about you? How did you end up in Brighton?”
I lean forward too. Am I finally going to learn something about Brynn?
“Just looking to get out of Phoenix. Summers are hot, and I wanted some cooler temps.” She shrugs one shoulder. “That’s about it.”
Liar.
My mom knows Brynn isn’t telling the truth. I can tell by the way her mouth twitches, but she leaves it alone. She’s the one who suggested Brynn is afraid of something, and she probably knows not to push the subject with her.
“Like most people,” Mom says, going along with her story. “I swear this town shrinks by half in the wintertime.” She gets up from the table and looks at Brynn. “I hope you’re staying for dinner. I didn’t confirm with Connor, but I made enough for four.”
Brynn gazes at me. I can’t tell from her look if she wants to stay or run.
“Sure,” she says, switching her eyes back to my mom. “Can I help you?”
Mom says yes, and Brynn gets up.
“Hey Brynn,” I say, before she disappears into the house. “Why don’t you tell my mom all about your sour beef and dumplings.”
She looks back at me, shooting daggers with her eyes. I laugh, knowing I’ve just forced her to tell my mom about her friendship with Walt.
“Quit pestering that girl,” my dad says, when my mom and Brynn are gone. “She likes you, you know.”
I snort. “It doesn’t feel like it.” I take a drink and set down my cup.
“She does. She looks at you when you’re not looking at her.”
Huh.
“I’ve never noticed,” I murmur, swiping my thumb across the drops of iced tea sliding down the outside of the cup.
“That’s because you aren’t looking.” Dad grunts a laugh. His face muscles strain, trying to assemble into the right formation to show laughter, but they only manage a partial expression.
I bite my lip and try not to show any sadness.
Mom comes out a few minutes later, Brynn behind her. They set food and plates down on the table.
Brynn is happy and calm, breezy and chatty. She asks my mom questions and makes my dad laugh three more times.
I have no idea who this girl is, but I know I like her.
The question is, who will she be once we leave?
11
Brynn
I shouldn’t have donethat.
