Page 1 of Common Grounds

Chapter one

Emery

I walk-run down the street, my high heels clicking rhythmically against the concrete. My purse slips down my shoulder, and I shove it back where it belongs. I’m sweating in the early-August heat, but I run anyway because I’m late.

I hate being late.

When I finally reach the diner, I pull hard at the heavy door. It opens enough that I slip through and pause in the entryway to catch my breath. I scan the maroon booths and shiny Formica tabletops as I wait for my eyes to adjust to the relative darkness. The diner is dingy, and it looks like someone put it in a time capsule and preserved it for fifty years, but I love it here. It’s my comfort place.

Once my eyes adjust, I spot my younger sister, Cassandra. Her blue-black hair that perfectly matches my own shines in the dim lights. I breeze past the hostess with a wave and a smile and slide into the booth across from her. I pinch two fries off the massive plate in front of her and shove them into my mouth as I sit.

“You should never keep a pregnant lady waiting.” She glares at me as I steal two more fries.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not a thing.” I hold the two fries together and bite off the tips of them.

“Pregnant women make the rules,” she insists.

“I’m pretty sure that’s also not a thing,” I counter.

She scowls at me. “You know what? It is a thing, and now you have two people to apologize to, not one.”

I press my lips together in mock sympathy. “Oh, poor you and baby, waiting for me with a plate of fries the size of your head. You have it so rough.”

“God, Emery. You’re such an asshole.” She folds her arms high up on her chest, right above the bump that has seriously popped in the past week or so. “I had a craving, okay?”

I suppress a smile as I slide out of my side of the booth and into hers. I throw my arm around her shoulder and pull her close. “I’m sorry, Cass,” I say, not at all sorry. Then, I reach my free hand to rub circles on her belly as I lean close to it. “And I’m sorry to you, too, little baby.” Cass groans, but I lean further in to plant a kiss where I imagine the baby might be. She shoves me so hard I almost slide off the booth.

“Dammit. No. Keep your hands and your mouth to yourself.” She scoffs at me, though she’s hiding a smile. “My body is not public property just because I’m pregnant.”

I chuckle, returning to my side of the booth. “I know it’s not, and I really am sorry I’m late. I almost missed my deadline today, and I don’t need Randall riding my ass any more than he already is.”

Cass tilts her head and gives an over-exaggerated pout. She must feel bad for me, though, because she pushes the plate of fries to the middle of the table in an offering. “What does he have you working on now? A story about some old lady rescuing fifty kittens from the alley behind her home?”

I huff. “You’re not far off. It was two corgi puppies that were found at the carnival last weekend.”

“I hope you at least got to interview the hot firefighter who found them?” she speculates, her voice tipping up at the end of the sentence in hope.

“I did get to interview the rescuer,” I admit, and she perks up. “But he was a sixty-year-old man with onion breath.” I sigh deeply, resigned. With the stories Randall keeps forcing on the writers, you’d think Baker’s Grove was a town with a population of three thousand rather than a bustling metropolis. Sure, it’s no Chicago or Indianapolis, but it’s big enough for some real journalism.

Cass grimaces as if reading my mind, then pops a fry into her mouth. “You can’t keep writing these garbage stories. You used to write such interesting stuff at The Gazette. Why does he still have you on these fluff pieces?”

I sigh heavily, taking five fries off the plate. She frowns as I eat all of them in one lump together, but I deserve to eat my feelings when I start thinking about how far I’ve fallen. “Randall doesn’t care what I did at The Gazette. As far as he’s concerned, they laid me off for a reason. And, besides, an online local lifestyle magazine isn’t really the place for hard-hitting material.” This isn’t exactly true, and Cass knows it, which is probably why she’s prying again. Randall will run edgier pieces if he thinks the readership will be interested in them, or if the feel-good stories start to get a little too sugar-coated for his liking.

“The Gazette was acquired by a larger publication and made cuts. That’s the reason. And maybe Baker’s Grove Living would get some more traction if he let you do something that’s actually interesting.”

I shrug. “I’m on this feel-good bullshit for the foreseeable future. Ray-of-sunshine reporter for Baker’s Grove Living is not the career move I thought I’d make, but here we are.”

Cass grunts and covers her mouth with her hand to hide her smile. No one on the planet would ever call me a ray of sunshine, and we both know it. The irony of surly old me writing cute and fuzzy stories for any publication isn’t lost on either of us.

“Hey, Em. How are you today?” Our waitress interrupts us.

I brighten as soon as the owner of this diner, Donna, sidles up to the table. Her gray hair is pulled into a wispy bun on top of her head, and her weathered skin crinkles around her eyes as she smiles at me. Cass and I have been coming here since we were in high school, and Donna—not only the owner, but the namesake of Donna’s Diner—has been a mainstay the entire time. She has always been a sort of second mother to both of us, from checking in on our homework to keeping tabs on us as we’ve grown into our careers. She was at both of our weddings, and when my marriage fell apart, she was there to help me pick up the pieces when my own parents decided they were too disappointed in me to offer much support. When our parents were disappointed again after Cass announced she was marrying a woman—my childhood best friend, Violet—Donna was there to pick up those pieces, too. She has shown us nothing but unconditional love and support. Cass and I barely have a relationship with our biological parents anymore, content with Donna making up the difference.

“Hi, Donna. It’s so good to see you!”

“I told your sister here I hope you two are staying out of trouble.” There’s a warning in her tone, but her smile gives her away. She not-so-secretly loves living vicariously through our adventures, even though she tries to hide it.

“Well, this one had to go and get herself knocked up, so one of us has to be the responsible one.” I grin at Donna, who chuckles and playfully smacks her little notepad at me. Cass simply raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow, unamused.

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