Page 59 of Old Money

I instruct Tyler where to go to get to the little neighborhood on the outskirts of downtown where the diner my mom works at is, perched on the corner. I see her car in the lot, and my stomach flips. We pull up, and suddenly, I feel nervous. I’ve never felt like Julian was judging me, but I don’t want my mom to feel like she’s being judged either.

But it’s too late to turn back now, because we’re parked, and Tyler is opening up my door. I turn back to Julian.

“Aren’t you coming?” I ask. He shrugs.

“That’s up to you, sweetheart,” he says. “We can ease our way in, if you want.”

But I think about the way he swept me through the door at Bedell House. How tightly he held my hand. How he showed them—and me—who I was to him. I smile and take his hand, bringing it to my lips.

“Come on,” I tell him. He smiles at me as we both scoot out of the car. Tyler takes the front while Russ takes the rear, leading us into the diner. Luckily, it’s eleven a.m. Seattle time, and no one is inside but the regulars and Randy, the owner.

He’s the sweet old man who gave my very-pregnant teen mother a job. Who let her keep it while she had me, and who delivered home-cooked meals to her from his wife after I was born. He and his wife, Beth, are family.

“Morning,” Randy calls from behind the counter without looking over to see who it is.

“Hi, Randy,” I say, and he turns to us. His eyes widen when he sees me, and he scoots out from behind the counter, making his way to me with big, open arms. His belly has gotten rounder over the years, but he still looks like he always has. He wraps me up in a hug.

“Baby girl!” he says. “It issogood to see this face! Does your mama know you’re here? She’s in back.”

I smile and hug him tight, shaking my head.

“I came in early to surprise her,” I say. Then I remember Julian. I turn and grab him, pulling him forward. “Wecame in early. This is my boyfriend, Julian.”

Julian sticks out a hand, and Randy eyes him up and down, shaking his hand enthusiastically. I’m sure he’s going through all the questions: How old is he? Why do I recognize his face?

But before I can add anything else, the kitchen door swings open, and my mom walks out with a tray of food over her shoulder. She spins around, her eyes landing on us, and Randy rushes to her to rescue the tray before she drops it. It takes her a moment to process us standing there, but when she does, she screams and throws her hands up, running around the counter to us. She pulls me in, and I instantly feel home. I feel my body and mind ease as I wrap my arms around her tight.

“Hi, Mama,” I say as we come apart.

“What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming in till Thursday!” she says. Then she turns to Julian. “And Julian! It’s so good to see you again! What…what brings you to Seattle?”

I clear my throat then reach back and take his hand in mine. I lift my eyes back to my mom, and her eyes are like saucers. She smiles, but I know her. I know she is the one with a million questions now. Julian reaches his free hand out and puts it on her shoulder.

“It’s so good to see you, Emily,” he says, then he bends down to me. “Tyler and I are going to go out to the car, sweetheart, and let you and your mom see each other for a few. Russ will hang in here with you. We’ll be outside whenever you’re ready.”

I nod. He can read me like a book. He slips back out the door, and then I turn back to my mom. She takes my hand, leading me to the booth at the very back corner—the same one I used to sit and do my homework in after school, waiting for her to get off. We scoot in opposite each other, and she just stares at me, holding my hands across the table.

“What’s happening, baby?” she asks. I take a deep breath.

“He surprised me and flew me out here early so I could spend more time with you,” I tell her. She tilts her head slightly, waiting for more. “Mom…we’re…together.”

I hold my breath, waiting to let it all sink in.

“Together?” she asks. “Like…you’re dating?”

SAWYER

Inod.

“Yeah, Ma,” I say.

“How…what happened?”

I swallow and shrug.

“I really don’t know, Ma,” I say. “We…we just spent a lot of time together after the shooting. He never stopped checking in on me, the apartment… I don’t know. I just can’t imagine him not being around now, ya know?”

She doesn’t say much, her eyes just moving side to side while she takes it all in.

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