“If you were hurting for help, the unpacking could’ve waited?—”
“You’re just looking for an excuse to put that off,” Grandma Jean accuses. “And anyway, she’s only in town for a short while. Her car needs parts that no one has in stock, and the extra set of hands has been a great help.”
I glance at Gemma as she hands out plates and mixes a couple of the orders up. She apologizes profusely, but the women at the table don’t seem bothered by it as they switch their plates. Ester and Delma seem to know her.
“Is she?—”
“We’re a little busy tonight as you can see, so what are we craving tonight, girls?”
I redirect my attention to the yellow menu board I’ve had memorized for years. Grandma Jean offers specials, but the menu has otherwise remained unchanged since Dad’s passing. All the meals are named after things from Dad’s favorite movie. My favorite is the Dorothy 2.0.
“Two bacon cheeseburgers meals with fries,” Grandma Jean says with a nod.
My gaze snags on one of the framed movie stills on the diner wall of Bill and Jo forced to take cover under a bridge. Jo doesn’trealize she’s about to lose her yellow truck. My heart squeezes. Dad really loved that truck. Mom used to roll her eyes every time he’d find one in a newspaper ad and suggest they buy it—he always showed it to me first. Mom’s eye roll was always filled with love. So much love.
“You okay?” Macy asks, nudging me with her shoulder after we order.
“Yeah. Just feeling a little nostalgic.” I think it was seeing the little girl, coloring a picture in the corner booth that defined my childhood that tugged me back in time. I’d bet she’s Gemma’s daughter. They look so much alike. “Thinking about my parents.”
“You still miss them.”
“I’ll always miss them,” I admit, but the sadness that used to wreck me isn’t there anymore. I choose to remember them with fondness, and it keeps me grounded. Most days. “I was just thinking about how much they loved each other. It was a like a fairytale or something.”
“It was,” Macy agrees. “I would’ve given anything to have parents like yours. You know, ones who looked at each other like the other one hung the moon instead of who might kill who first.”
“Ryder looks at you like you created the entire galaxy,” I point out, feeling that familiar ache in my chest again. One I refuse to pick apart. Considering I had a complete meltdown over a single photo on my Nikon, it’s obvious I’m still very fucking broken inside. Until I’m ready to face and conquer my fears, it’d be reckless to open up my heart to anyone.
Wyatt would keep it safe.
“Hey Grandma Jean,” I call out to her, waving to get her attention as I shove away the uninvited thought about Wyatt. Seems to be a lot of those lately. “You got a minute?”
“You need something for the house?” she asks.
I pull the photo from my purse and hand it over. “I was hoping you might recognize which ranch that is in the background of this photo.”
“You found the alpacas,” she says quietly.
“Sort of.”
She adjusts her glasses, drawing the picture closer to her face She studies it for several long seconds before finally shaking her head. “I’m afraid I don’t. What do you plan to do when you figure out where they are?”
I fill Grandma Jean in about meeting Walter and the whole alpaca situation as Macy and I enjoy our burgers and fries.
“Now I get why Wyatt was in here asking after Walter,” Grandma Jean says. “I’m so relieved to hear he’s happy and well taken care of. Shady Pines used to be a pretty damn shady place.”
“I want to find Karen and Penelope,” I explain to her. “I have a feeling they’re not as well off as Walter is. Otherwise, why would Birdie have escaped? Wyatt says no one has reported her missing yet.”
“How do younotnotice an alpaca in a blue unicorn hat is missing?” Macy chimes in.
“Can I keep this photo here?” Grandma Jean asks. “I can show it around. See if anyone recognizes this place?”
“I promised Walter I’d return it,” I say.
“I’ll keep it safe,” Grandma Jean promises. “And I’ll call you as soon as I hear anything.”
CHAPTER 10
Wyatt
