After talking with Hannah and Nalini the day before, I’d gone to my room, where I stretched out on the bed, listening to Ben still playing in the living room. At some point, I’d fallen asleep.
When I woke up, everyone had gone to the Pavilion. Where, by all reports, I missed something big.
It happened when they were leaving, apparently. Clark and Ben were already at the car, getting in, when Lana stopped at the parking lot edge. A moment later, Cardoon jogged up to join her. Just two seasonal professionals, conversing. Until, suddenly, they were kissing. The boys had seen the entire thing.
“… I mean, it went on for a while, too,” Clark continued as Ben—MONTFORD FALLS ARCHERY—flipped some bacon, sizzling. The entire morning he’d avoided me, staying in the kitchen. “What do you think, Cross? A good minute? Maybe two?”
“Easy two,” Ben said, without turning around.
Lana, returning with her tray, ignored this. She grabbed the coffeepot, then said to me, “Finley. Counter.”
It was Jeremy, sliding into a seat. “Hey,” I said.
“Good morning.” He smiled as I laid out a napkin, silverware, a mug. “I had to have another one of those breakfast sandwiches.”
I wrote this down. “Anything else?”
“Just a minute to talk, if you have it.” The door clanged, announcing more customers. “I’ll wait.”
He did. Through that rush, and then another when Cardoon showed up with a scheduled van of seniors, fresh off their chair-yoga class. (Code name: Silver Stars.) Finally, it was slow enough for me to go back over.
“Sorry to take so long,” I said. “Crazy morning.”
“The weeds. I remember them well,” he replied. “Of all the jobs I’ve had, restaurant work is the one I still kind of miss. It’s just a whole different world.”
“Agreed,” I said, grabbing a cloth and wiping down the counter. “To be honest, it’s kind of saved me. The ultimate distraction from, well… everything.”
He nodded. “I bet. From what I’ve heard from your mom, you’ve been through it the last few weeks. She’s really proud of how you’ve adapted to your breakup. How strong you are.”
“She said that?”
“More than once,” he said as the door sounded again. “Speaking of which. After the other day, she made it pretty clear she doesn’t want me involved in her surgery. Or, well, anything to do with her.”
Not surprising. Their earlier visit to the Egg had not only involved Angela revealing my mom’s illness, but a return tothe Woods interrupted by Jeremy’s car getting stuck. I could only imagine the conversation they’d had while waiting for the tow truck.
“She’s really private and proud,” I said. “It’s not easy to get close to her. Trust me.”
His face eased. Sometimes you can just tell when you’ve said the right thing. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a card. “I understand. When it’s all happening… can you just let me know she’s okay? I put all my numbers on there.”
JEREMY TAYLOR, it said in raised print.ECO SOLUTIONS. “Of course,” I said.
“Can someone run this food?” Clark said. “Finley? Eggs are hardening in real time.”
“Go,” Jeremy said as I glanced behind me at the window. “And thanks.”
I nodded, then grabbed a tray and began plating: pancakes, eggs all the way, sandwiches. Bacon. Bacon. Just over Clark’s shoulder, Ben was scraping the flattop. I’m sorry,I thought, as I had so many times already that day. But nothing counts, especially apologies, when you don’t say it out loud.
I ran my food and distributed it, somehow. When I got back to the counter, Jeremy was gone, a twenty folded neatly under his mug. I slid it into my pocket as the phone rang again.
“Egg. Can I help you?”
“Hey. It’s Liz.”
Her voice was weird. Tight. Immediately, I was worried. “What’s going on?”
A pause. I clutched the receiver more tightly, bracing myself.I can handle this,I thought. My mom said it herself. I’m strong.
“Hello?” I said.
