Page 8 of Love By the Slice

“Maybe you take things far too seriously.” Shelly hefted the thermal bag. “You know, like the time you told me we were both going to lose our jobs because Loveless was going to close, except now you’re the part owner and you’re engaged to the other part owner?”

Ezra said, “That was, if you recall, a serious situation.”

Shelly headed for the back door. “Yeah, talk more about it once you’re done turning everything into a catastrophe.”

As she drove up Main Street, Shelly hissed out a hard breath between clenched teeth. So, those were the only two options? Seeing devastation around every corner, or being a light-hearted goofball?

Ezra had a point that Greg didn’t always take things seriously. His number one statement was, “Don’t worry. It’ll work out.” It galled Ezra to no end when things did work out, but Shelly knew they “worked out” because someone had worked them out. Either that, or someone had put in effort to minimize the fallout.

Shelly had no idea if any of her mother’s exes were wandering around, thinking about their abandoned offspring, “It’ll all work out.” If things had worked out for her and Ezra, they hadn’t worked out except with a lot of sacrifice and a lot of effort. Ezra’s effort had sprung Shelly. Shelly and Ezra now were making efforts to extract the next sibling. Ezra sent home money to their mother, and in that way, things “worked out.”

Greg, on the other hand, never clenched his teeth and “worked things out.” It was so darned refreshing to see someone with confidence that the world wasn’t poised to swallow them whole.

Take kissing him at midnight, for example. Greg hadn’t freaked out. He hadn’t gotten a weighty moodiness and dissected the kiss for hours to figure out what she meant by it. She’d kissed him, and he’d enjoyed it. Boom. Done.

If they kissed again? He’d probably be just as cheerful.

Greg rolled with the changes. He let things happen. He rode the crest of the wave, and once the wave settled, he was ready to ride the next. It made sense that she’d daydream about him and text him and tease him.

Plus, he really was kind of a goofball. But she’d meant it about him being trustworthy. He showed up for his shifts. He locked up when he was done. She’d also meant it about him being approachable—if only she could approach him without Ezra freaking the freak out.

CHAPTER FIVE

WHILE GREG HELD down the pizzeria on Thursday, he kept an eye out for Rowan. No luck.

When a bunch of middle schoolers came in to get sodas and play the ancient video game machine, Greg said, “Hey, do you guys know a kid named Rowan?”

One of them said, “Why?”

Greg said, “Oh, so you do.”

Why he might want to know if they knew Rowan hadn’t occurred to Greg as a possible response, although now that he thought about it, it made sense that they might be protective of their friend. On the other hand, he wasn’t about to say, “Well, you see, a friend thinks Rowan is starving.”

One of them said, “Yeah, you can smell him from a mile away!” and another said, “I’m not surprised you know him. Only surprised you got close enough to ask his name.”

Point of information: Rowan was a boy. Also, good call that Greg had deflected their question. He said, “Well, he left something, so tell him to come back.”

What had Rowan left here? Maybe his self-respect and dignity? Although Greg had tried to give those back. Shelly certainly had.

That nasty remark about him smelling bad, though…? Greg hadn’t noticed anything. Given the overall smells of a wood-fired pizza kitchen, maybe he couldn’t. There was always thehomey scent of wood smoke, of course, but also the continuous aroma of tomato sauce, plus the spices of the meatballs and the pepperoni, not to mention the onions. The kid could have rolled in potpourri for all he knew.

If he had noticed, he also might have assumed the kid was dumpster-diving. Which he had. So…

Greg gave the boys their pizza, but he said, “Don’t be rude to him. You don’t know what he has going on.”

One of them said, “He doesn’t havefriendsgoing on, that’s for sure.”

“All the more reason not to be rude.” Greg glowered at them. “Bring him next time and maybe you get a discount.”

He registered the wheels turning in the kids’ heads, so he added, “What’s he ever done to you?”

“Well, nothing. He doesn’t talk to anyone.” One of the kids wrinkled his nose. “Look, why do you care?”

Greg said, “Because when someone’s getting treated the way you guys are treating him, a decent person is supposed to care.”

All four boys stayed silent as they ate. Good. They ought to feel uncomfortable.

Greg texted Shelly. “Turns out Rowan is the school pariah.”

---