“Bummer.” Lani shot a look over her shoulder at Noah.
“Not at all. I’d be happy to sit down in my restaurant and share a meal with you. I hear the food is great.”
“No cheating,” Mr. Hope said.
“As if we would do that!” Newman called.
“I know you boys.” Mr. Hope shook his fist and did a mock growl into the microphone.
“Were you all really bad in school?” Lani asked Noah.
“Not really bad. A bit bad, and maybe disruptive.”
“Noah was bad,” Jake said. “I was a saint.”
“Jake was the golden boy. Everyone believed he could do no wrong, which meant he got into trouble and we took the rap for it,” Noah said.
“What can I say, everyone loved me.” Jake smiled.
“And then one day he came home from serving his country a different man,” Noah whispered in Lani’s ear. “A broken one.”
There has been plenty of ugly in this town.
“Not now, though?” Lani wasn’t sure why she needed to know Jake was all right. Suddenly it was really important to her.
“Not now. He’s doing great. Friends, family, but mostly Branna helped him get through.”
“It seems idyllic here, like nothing bad can touch the inhabitants. But that’s not true, is it, Noah?”
He shook his head. “Bad gets to most places and most people at some stage in their lifetimes, Lani. It’s how you fight your way out of it and who helps that’s the key.”
She looked at him for long seconds, and suddenly it was as if they were alone. His dark eyes seemed to read her every thought.
“Are you over the bad?” she whispered.
“I’m trying. How about you? Want to share your bad with me?”
“Twenty seconds!” Mr. Hope roared, and it snapped Lani out of her trance. She dragged her eyes from Noah’s.
“Tell me again what I have to do,” Lani said.
She felt his hand in her hair briefly.
“All you have to do is hold the spoon and potato until we reach the finish line. I’ll clear us a path.”
“I don’t understand,” she took the spoon he handed her and balanced the potato on it.
“My friends don’t fight fair, and they’ll do what they can to stop us. You ready?”
She nodded, then tried not to stiffen as he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his side. She did the same, grabbing a handful of his shirt.
“The secret is to try and get a rhythm going early. Start with the outside foot, then the bound one. You up for this, pumpkin girl?”
“Mrs. C made me wear it.”
“She’s a forceful woman, that one.”
“But the best.”
