I smile, huffing out half a laugh, and swiping her cheek. “I bet you have. There’s probably scorch marks on her fancy dress from all that fire you breathed on her.” I pinch her cheek. “My little dragon.”
She swats my hand away, scowling. “Then she found out Dad is who gave me the money for the diner. After we had a blowup on Mom’s birthday, it was a whole thing. And now I lost my mom, what’s left of the rest of my family, and the restaurant.”
Her eyes start to water, but she pinches the bridge of her nose to stem the tears.
I pull her into me, head buried in my chest, and hold her until I feel her take a deep breath, and then I let her loose again.
“I don’t want to leave you, Lex,” I tell her, even though she didn’t include me in that list. “That email I sent to management was me looking for a reason to stay.”
She nods quickly but takes her time responding. “I wish I could give you a reason to.”
I want to tell her she’s enough for me, I don’t need the restaurant to stay. But I don’t want to scare her away.
This vulnerability is new and spooking her would ruin it all. She’s got enough on her plate, feeling shackled to me, like she has to find placement for me in the Heights, it’s more than she needs right now.
“My old bosses, they offered me my own fine dining restaurant back in New York.” I don’t call it home.
Her mouth pops open just a fraction and I watch the news settle into her. “I can’t compete with that,” she says. “It sounds like your dream. Salt + Spice.”
“Doesn’t it?”
I’m not so sure anymore.
“You should take it,” she whispers.
“They don’t need an answer yet,” I tell her. “Let’s see how everything shakes out here first. Is there anything I can do to help with the café?”
She shakes her head. “Rory is trying to find a way to save it, but I was the only one who stepped up before and I don’t think anyone else is going to swoop in now.”
Lexi rolls over, burying her head in her hands so her voice is muffled when she speaks again. “Plus, I’ve been such a bitch to her about losing our mom, and I just can’t forgive her for leaving and forget it all. I can’t believe she even wants to help me at this point.”
“Hey,” I say gently, pulling on one arm until she brings her face back up. “Grief and trauma are individual battles. No one can tell you you’re doing it wrong. I lost my mom at twenty-one, and I’m still not okay.”
Her lips push into a pout. “Were you close?”
“She’s the best woman I ever knew. Losing her was the final nail for me in getting out of my old life.”
“I can’t imagine,” she whispers. “I had mine until I was thirty-five and it almost broke me.”
“You were lucky to get all that time with her.” I don’t hide the jealousy in my voice. It’s not acidic, just perspective. If the perspective from someone who didn’t get any time as an adult with their own mother helps her appreciate it, then good. “Last time I got to spend a day with her was when I was seventeen.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
I shrug. “Some people have shitty parents. I’m lucky I had good ones, I guess. Even if I only had ’em for twenty years.”
Lexi rolls onto her back, battling with whatever is going on in her head.
“She just pisses me off so much!”
“Your mom?”
“My sister. Like she’s so much fucking better than everyone.”
“Do you really think that?”
“I did when she first came back.” She takes a heavy breath, the silence sinking in through the car.
A rush of wind and a rumble of the vehicle tell me someone just passed us for the first time since we’ve been out here.
