Will stops inside, taking it in with a whistle. “This place sure didn’t use to be here.”
I can’t help but notice the heads turning to look at us. Everybody knows everybody in Rosehill, so when the town doctor and one of the only criminals Rosehill ever had are out together—
People notice.
I ignore the shift of attention and the murmured exchange between two women at the counter who are watching us. They can gossip all they want. Will’s family.
But he must notice too, by the way he sits down, his shoulders pulled in and his gaze staying down at the menu, the almost good mood from earlier replaced by a tension running through him.
“Breakfast is good here,” I say, opening my menu, chatting like nothing is wrong. “The kids like their pancakes.” He opens his own, and I think I actuallyhearhis stomach growl.
“Biscuits and gravy looks good, but so does the bacon. And the waffles—” he says out loud, his body relaxing again as he scans the options.
“Get whatever you want,” I hear myself saying, finding that I mean it. I want him to have whatever he wants. I’m sure it’s been a long time. At least seven years, but by the way he was living before…
He sets the menu to the side, looking up with a smile that looks weird on his usual solemn face.
Notbadweird.
“This is why you gotta hang out with the rich guys.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not rich.”
“Compared to me, you are,” he retorts, and I’ll give him that.
The server comes and takes our order, setting a cup of black coffee in front of both of us that Will proceeds to dump way too much cream and sugar into. “What?” he asks, when I’ve been watching in horror for a minute straight. “I’ve been drinking shitty coffee for years, don’t judge me.”
“I’m not.”I am.
His bacon and eggsandwaffles come, along with the egg white thing I force myself to eat because I’m supposed to be watching my calories. Will turns his nose up at it, but doesn’t comment, and we settle into the closest thing to comfortable we’ve been since he got home.
He asks about Ollie again, and I tell him more about the teacher situation and the ice cream negotiation, and he listens like he’s interested. When he lifts the coffee cup to his lips, his hands aren’t shaking the way they were at Frank and Joyce’s.
That settles a nagging concern I haven’t been able to shake since that day.
I’m telling him about the time, after he was arrested, that I came home to find Addie and, in turn, Emmett had decided to paint the kitchen table when I feel a presence beside me.
“Dr. Murphy.”
Barbara Mullins is looking at me with her church smile on, too polite to be real, but she can’t quite keep it up when she looks Will’s way. “And William Davis. What a surprise.” She purses her lips. “I didn’t realize you were home.”
Will goes still across from me.
The ease of the last twenty minutes drains out of him like it was never there to begin with, and all of a sudden, he’s that same man from a week ago, looking down at his coffee, his voice nowhere to be found.
She takes that as an invitation to keep going.
“I hope you know this town doesn’t tolerate any of that—”
I tune her out, knocking my foot against his under the table. His eyes flit up to meet mine briefly, the green taking on a sort of teal color with the blue shirt he’s wearing—
“You better leave that poor boy alone, Barb,” I hear from the bar, where Lily Price and her wife, Diana, sit, having their own breakfast.
Will’s head shoots up at her voice, and I don’t have a single explanation for the disappointment I feel when his eyes are out of my line of view.
“Oh, hey, Mrs. Price. Long time no see,” he says, with a real smile, when she hops down from her stool with a word to her wife and comes to stand beside Barbara.
“Well, it was nice to speak with you boys,” she says with a look bordering on a grimace before she returns to the other ladies from church.
