“You’re so dramatic,” her mom teased.
Tissue to her nose, she blew, glanced up, and met a curious brown-eyed gaze three tables down. The figure was blurry, thanks to all the watering her eyes were doing, and seemed to have an armload of fresh flowers. She blinked several more times, and the person became clear.
Jenna.
Choking back a cough, she finished blowing her nose, then dabbed at her watering eyes some more and lifted a hand in a halfhearted wave. Jenna started walking toward her, and there was no escape.
“Everything okay over here?” Jenna asked with an uncertain smile as Sawyer coughed a little more. “Should I call an ambulance?”
“Hilarious,” Sawyer said with a grin. “This pepperoni just tried to kill me.”
“My daughter is just a little sensitive when it comes to spicy food,” her mom said, clearly enjoying Sawyer’s misery as she stroked Sawyer’s arm as if she were a small child.
“Oh, that’s so sad,” Jenna said, her grin telling Sawyer that she, too, was finding the level of tears and snot and discomfort entertaining.
Sawyer sipped her latte, hoping the creaminess of it would help alleviate the volcano in her mouth. After a moment, she cleared her throat, wiped at her eyes again, and made the introductions. “Sorry. Mom, you remember Jenna, my next-door neighbor. Jenna, my mother, Ally Hall.”
“Ah, yes, the girl next door.” Her mom said it like she knew something neither she nor Jenna did. They shook hands and her mom asked, “How are things on the other side of the duplex?”
“They’re good.” Jenna shifted the flowers into her other arm. “Can’t complain.”
“The new neighbor okay? Not obnoxious or playing music too loud?”
“Mom,” Sawyer said, sounding like she was seven years old and being embarrassed by her mother in front of her friends.
“So far, so good,” Jenna said, her eyes shifting from Sawyer’s mother to Sawyer. “But it’s still early days.”
Sawyer’s mom laughed at what Sawyer wasn’t sure was a joke. “And that adorable dog of yours?”
“Oh, he’s great.” This time, Jenna’s smile was big. Genuine. “He’s the best. Spoiled rotten, as usual.”
“As it should be,” her mom said. Her eyes lit up, followed by a little gasp, the way they always did when she thought she had a good idea that often…wasn’t.
No.
“I have a fabulous idea.”
Oh no.
“Are you busy Monday evening?”
Jenna blinked rapidly several times, and Sawyer could tell she’d been taken off guard. “Um…it’s actually my day off so…no?”
“Excellent. I’m ordering dinner to have at Sawyer’s. You’ll join us. Anything you don’t eat?”
“Um…no?”
“Great. It’s settled. Come by around six thirty. And bring that adorable dog of yours.” Sawyer’s mother was far too pleased with herself. “So good seeing you, Jenna. I look forward to getting to know you better.”
“Same,” Jenna said, lifting a hand as Sawyer’s mom continued down the aisle.
Sawyer mouthed “I’m so sorry” as she passed by Jenna, sniffing and still dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.
But Jenna was smiling, little crinkles at the corners of her eyes, and said very quietly, “Don’t be.”
And something about those two small words caused a flutter of butterflies low in Sawyer’s abdomen. Then she turned and followed her mother. She waited until they were plenty far from Jenna so she was sure she wouldn’t be heard before she hissed, “What the hell was that?”
“What was what?” her mother asked, all innocence, flipping through a bin of small plastic bags filled with dried herbs.
