Page 49 of From Nowhere

Lola waves me toward the table, where Maren’s back is to me.

“What a pleasant surprise,” I say. “Here.” I lay cash on the table by her water glass.

Maren glances at me while sliding the cash toward me. “The surprise is mine. And I’ll pay top dollar for good company.” She winks at Lola, who’s kneeling on the wooden stool.

“Put your butt on the chair before you fall over, goofy,” I say to Lola. She frowns before following my order.

I sit next to Maren because it’s conveniently the closest stool.

“Thank you. Now I owe you.” I pocket the cash.

“Lola said she’s been at hertalk doc.”

I chuckle, angling my body toward Maren until our legs touch like the other night at the bar. Her glossed lips twitch with the recognition that, even now, we’re sneaking around. “Yes. Victoria is hertalk doc.”

“Maren,” the guy behind the counter calls out.

“I’ve got it.” I get our bowls and set them on the table.

“Thank you for not asking me about my scars,” Lola says, giving Maren a shy smile that rips at my chest. My mom told her to say that to anyone she liked because people feel at ease when the obvious is out in the open.

The good news: Lola likes Maren.

The bad news: Maren has tears in her eyes.

Maren swallows hard and nods, averting her gaze to her rice, veggie, and steak bowl.

Lola smiles at me, proud of herself for—in her mind—making a friend. I have a warm, fuzzy feeling for five seconds before Lola goes too far.

“Are you married?” she asks.

Maren shakes her head, chewing slowly.

“Do you like my dad?”

“Lola—”

“I do like your dad.”

My thoughts go up in smoke. I’ve lost control of this conversation. I’m the third wheel.

Lola lights up. I haven’t seen her look this happy in a long time. Her wide, unblinking eyes jump to mine.

“You should come to our house and meet my nana and pa.”

This girl has no clue what a terrible idea that is. I wait for Maren to squirm in her seat or stutter a nervous reply.

“You should come tomyhouse to meet my cat,” Maren says.

Yep. It’s like I’m not even here. Neither one of them gives a single shit about what I want.

“Yes! Dad, can we go after dinner?”

I shake my head. “The sun’s setting, and it’s too far for you to ride in the dark.”

Lola deflates.

“What if you come tomorrow?” Maren suggests.

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