Though I have no idea what they’d think of how little I know about what I want my life to be now that I’ve done my job of raising my brothers and can focus on finding my own future.
And that thought makes my eyes burn a little because time doesn’t heal all wounds, so I distract myself with shutting off the grill to get ready for cleaning up for the day.
But I’m still watching out of the corner of my eye.
“Bro—are you brothers?” Simon straightens, no longer trying to be subtle about looking for his security person. “You are, aren’t you? Bea’s brother’s?”
Ryker grunts and walks past him, ignoring the question. “You have enough help today?” he asks me.
“Can’t have any more, or we won’t fit,” Daphne answers for me. “If you don’t want fish, how about a burger? You look hangry. Not growing enough food out on the farm?”
“Out of burgers,” I report, because I’ve delivered the last one to the customer waiting outside.
“You’re a farmer?” Simon asks Ryker.
We all ignore him.
Ryker keeps aiming his broody grump face at me. “You went to jail?”
“Hours ago. Chief let me out, and now?—”
“Hello? Are you still open?” a woman calls at the window.
“And now we’ve made more in sympathy tips today than I made the last three days combined,” I finish on a whisper as I turn to the window. “One last basket of fish on a stick, and that’s all we’ve got,” I tell her. “You want it?”
“Oh, yes, please.”
“Out in a minute. Just stand there.”
“Are there three of you? Three brothers?” Simon points to the pictures on the wall. “There are, aren’t there?”
Daphne moves between them, which is basically useless since all three men now in my burger bus are at least eight inches taller than she is and outweigh her by approximately a burger bus too.
But what she lacks in stature, she makes up for in attitude. “What’s it to you?” she asks Simon.
“Simply learning the community.”
Nope.
I don’t trust him.
And not just because he was getting all buddy-buddy with Mrs. Camille.
“Ryker,” I say, “get out of the way so we can get the last fish done. Hudson, throw more food and you’re grounded. Daphne, please see our special guest out. We’re closed.”
No one does what I’ve asked.
Hudson sticks a french fry in Ryker’s ear. Ryker shoves him out of the way and approaches the fryers like he’s going to finish the fish himself.
And Daphne—Daphne peers around my brothers and gives me a look that I’m very familiar with.
It always means something different, but the results are generally the same.
We head out to dosomething, our efforts go sideways, and we get stories that we’ll tell our great-nieces and great-nephews someday.
Assuming any of my brothers or Daphne’s sister want to have children.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Daph says to me.
