Page 23 of Long Shot

“Reese!”

I halt and back up a few steps. “What?”

“What happened with Jack?”

I stare at him slack-jawed for a moment. “Um . . . oh. Well, the people who were interested decided on another dog. So they never came to see him.”

“Ah. Poor Jack.”

I lift a shoulder. “Yeah. I guess.”

“You don’t want him to be adopted?”

“Sure. Yeah. Finding his forever home would be great.” I try out a smile.

He squints at me skeptically. “Okay.”

I flash a hopefully bright smile and continue down the hall. In the staff room, I stand for a moment. He asked about Jack. I don’t quite know what to make of that.

I sigh, pull my phone out of my purse, and sit for a few minutes to look at it. My mom has messaged me.Please call. I need to hear your voice.

She’s worried about me, as always. Shaking my head, I call my mom’s cellphone number. “Hey, Mom, it’s me.”

“Reese! Sweetheart, it’s so good to hear from you. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing well, Mom.”

“You’re still waitressing?”

“Yes.”

After a beat of silence, Mom says, “That just seems so . . .” Her voice trails off.

“It’s good, really. It’s a nice place. The owners are great. I’m enjoying the sun and the ocean here. I’m even making some new friends.”

“Oh. Does that mean . . . you’re going to stay there?”

“I don’t know. You know I’m just taking one day at a time right now.”

“Yes, right.”

We chat for a few more minutes, Mom updating me about family news.

“I have to get back to work, Mom,” I say before ending the call. “I’m just on a break. We’ll talk again soon.”

“Okay. I’m glad you’re happy there. Maybe you’ll come home for Christmas?”

“Um . . . maybe. We’ll see.” I end the call and tuck my phone away to get back to work. It was good to talk to Mom. I do miss my family, and I don’t want them to worry about me.

I gaze around the enormous wholesale store. I’m in heaven—surrounded by food. I wander past the cooler full of all kinds of sausages, salami, and free-range chickens . . . amazing seafood—look at those scallops! I literally salivate, imagining them crusted with pumpkin seeds, dressed with a chipotle peppercorn sauce. Discreetly, I make notes of ideas.

I meander into the produce section, eyeing tomatoes, onions, and yes, avocados. Oh, God, all kinds of chiles! I finger their smooth skins and admire the glossy colors. I imagine the fresh corn served with caramelized onions, pequin peppers, and butter.

It’s enough to make me weep.

I gave Sid a list of things I thought of last night, but today I sidle up to him and pass him the paper I just wrote on. I can’t get carried away. We can only try a few new things, but even just having beautiful fresh produce to make existing menu items like salsas will help.

I continue to wander around casually while Danny and Sid make their purchases and load up Danny’s SUV. They buy staples, too, rice and beans, the kosher salt I requested. We get regular deliveries of other stuff, prepared foods like frozen chicken fingers and jugs of salsa, bleh. This is much better.

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