"Viv," Daisy says kindly, gently squeezing her best friend's forearm. "Honestly, it sounds like you are projecting."
"Do you have a magnifying glass for an eyeball?" Vivi gripes. "Stop looking at me so closely."
Vivi turns to me in a very on purpose way, signaling she's done being under Daisy's microscope. "How is your time in Olive Township going? Have you found anything?"
I know what I say next is going to add fuel to their suspicions that Hugo cares for me. Here goes.
"Yesterday, Hugo and I drove north to Sugar Creek. We visited David Boylan."
Two jaws drop. Two sets of eyes bulge.
"You should have led with that," Vivi grumbles.
Daisy tucks a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. "He left Olive Township only to move to another small townin Arizona?" She's shaking her head like she can hardly believe it. "I would have assumed he'd gone halfway around the world."
"How was Hugo when he saw the guy?" Vivi asks, concern for her brother creeping into her tone.
"I think it helped Hugo to see him." It occurs to me Vivi might be hurt she wasn't invited. She hasn't seemed interested (or even slightly approving) of my scrutiny of her dad's case, but maybe she wants to be asked, even if all she plans to do is decline. "I'm sorry we didn't ask you to go with us."
"I'll be really honest with you, I wouldn't have said yes. I'm not in the same place as Hugo. Dealing with my grief isn't where I am right now in life. I can't put my energy there quite yet." She finishes her coffee, adding, "I have babies to raise, and exes to hate. I'm swamped."
"Young lady?" Sal again. He holds a small white box. "Adela said to give this to you. No charge. We're adding it to the menu." He slides the box in front of me. "She called it the perfect spring flavor. I thought lemon and carrot cake were just fine, but what do I know?"
"Thank you, thank you," I gush. I want to wrap this sweet and salty old man into a hug, but I don't know if he's ok with it, and it might embarrass him. Adela calls out to him, something about helping her, and he shuffles away.
My fingers press into the sides of the cake box, turning it this way and that. This is the first time that I was not the person to bake this cake. It feels odd, as if there is a degree of separation to it. These ingredients didnot pass through my hands. But of course, Maggie is the reason I'm in Olive Township.
"Hey," Vivi says, voice warm. "If you don't want to be alone tonight, you can come hang out with me and my kids. They sing a mean happy birthday."
"That's very kind of you, but I think I'll pass. Nobody needs to see me ugly cry." Vivi and Daisy nod. Every woman knows what it's like to need a good cry once in a while. "Typically I eat cake and get drunk." A gentle swoop over my belly with my hand. "But not this year."
"Next year," Daisy says, excitement bright in her eyes. "King's Ransom. They make a blood orange margarita that's unbelievable."
"I'm more of a tequila with soda water and a splash of grapefruit juice kind of girl."
Daisy snaps her fingers. "They can do that, too."
Vivi thumbs at Daisy. "This girl only drinks champagne."
My gaze runs over Daisy's halo of blonde hair, her pretty face and cute little sundress. "That tracks."
Vivi barks a laugh. "I told you you look like a person who drinks champagne. Or rosé, in second place."
The three of us deposit our empty cups and saucers in a dirty dish bin at the end of the counter.
"Thank you," we call on our way out, but Sal and Adela are in the kitchen, and from the looks of it, they are griping about something.
"If they weren't bitching at each other, I'd be worried," Vivi says.
Daisy pulls me in for a warm hug. Vivi hangs backwhen Daisy lets me go, saying, "I usually only hug people I know well, but in a weird way I feel like I know you on an elevated level."
"Agreed. But you don't have to hug me if you don't want to. Your mom gives the greatest hugs, so I know you had a good teacher."
"Ahh fuck it," Vivi says, pulling me in. She's stiff, but her heart is in the right place.
We part ways, and I stop into a store for new pajamas because I brought only one set with me, and then pop into a drugstore for candles.My stomach rumbles, reminding me I need to eat. I snag a BLT and fries to-go from Good Thyme Café, and insist the hostess let me pay for it. It was unbelievably sweet of Hugo to instruct them not to charge me, but I need to be able to pay for my own food.
Arms full when I walk into my hotel room, my foot catches on the lip of the carpet. Thankfully, I don't go sprawling, but I drop my to-go container and it opens, the sandwich falling apart and half of the fries spilling out onto the floor.
