Page 47 of Tell Me You Love Me

“Alrighty. So I heard you’re heading to Plainview Elementary after the summer, and guess what? My Mikey goes to that school, too, and he’s your same age.”

“Really?” Surprise brings me back in, because hell, I still have small-town in my blood, and I know for a damn fact she wasn’t pregnant when we graduated. Or at least, she wasn’t talking about it. “You have a nine-year-old? Caroline!”

“Oh, shush.” Giggling, she stands once more and pats my arm. “You knew what we were doing back then. Same thing you were doing.”

“Which is not a thing we’ll discuss right now.” I pointedly look down at my son, then back up at her. Though laughter, the first real bout I’ve felt in a while, rolls along my throat. “You have a child!? I swear, my mind is blown.”

“I havethreechildren. Mikey, who’s nine, then Daisy, she’s seven. Lola is?—”

“Five,” Franky answers seriously. “Assuming you were consistent.”

“Lord.” She cups her mouth and snorts like a baby pig. “He’s quick.”

“Too quick, sometimes.” I set my hand on his shoulder and carefully draw him in. I don’t always know what he wants in social situations like these, but when he wraps his arm across my back and anchors his hand on my hip, I know I’ve picked right. “Three,” I repeat in awe. “Geez.”

“It’s a lot. But once you have two, it’s all the same. A mess is still a mess, and noise is noise. Pete and I are talking about trying for one more. But then we’ll probably stop.” Her cheeks warm with a sweet blush. “I’ve been working some nights at the bar to have something other than kids to keep my brain busy. If we do have one more, that’ll beit. It’s time for my boobs to belong to me again.”

Boobs!

Franky drops his gaze to the ground and blushes a furious red.

Change the subject!“Which bar do you work at?”

“You remember Darlene’s?” She nods before I can answer. “We bought that from her a couple of years back.”

“But it’s still called Darlene’s?”

She giggles. “It is! Though, once I’m done making babies—oh, and we’re building a house out by the drive-in movie theater, too—but when we’re done with all that, I intend to sit down and have a think about the future of the bar. Might even consider a new name.”

“Risky move,” I tease. “I’ve mentioned changingBooks Books Booksto something a little less on the nose, and it’s like I suggested tossing Mrs. Middler’s cat into the bathtub and sitting on it till it stops moving.”

She cackles. “I heard that, too! My mom had a good ole time catching me up on everything that’s happened since we left. Though,” again, she leans in to tell another secret, “I heard Mrs. Middler isactuallyfine with the change. She’s only huffing for the sake of huffing, so press on that button one more time, and you’ll probably get your way. Then make an offer on the place. Bet you a tequila shooter that you get it for a steal.”

“Really?” Franky, my Mr. Businessman, swings his gaze up in interest. “How much do you consider a steal?”

Stunned, Caroline’s eyes come to mine.

So I shrug and gesture down to him again. “You wanna talk business, you gotta talk to my associate. He’s the brains of this outfit.”

“Oh, well…” She reaches into her purse and pulls out a pen and a scrap piece of paper. “I’m gonna write a number on this page, my good sir. I say you offer her something in this vicinity.” She scribbles the digits and finishes with an exclamation point, then folding the paper, she offers it.To him, not me. “I reckon you’ll be the new owners of a little slice of the Plainview business district. Get her on a good day, and you’re all set. If she says no—” She drops the pen back in her bag “—then you just ask again another day. She’s ready to sell, and she wants to do it before she dies.”

Franky’s brows pinch—death, as a friendly conversation piece, bothershim—but Caroline’s phone trills in her purse, stealing her focus while Franky brings his hands up and plugs his ears.

She fishes for the device and huffs after reading the screen, then she silences it and meets my eyes. “You should come to Darlene’s for a drink. I gotta run and get my kids now, and there ain’t no way we can catch up properly with my hooligans running around.”

A fresh bout of nerves settles in the base of my stomach, much the same way I imagine they do for Franky when he doesn’t want to socialize. And though we don’t verbalize our thoughts, we still take a step back as one. “No, I don’t think I can?—”

“I really want to see you, Alana.” She grabs my arm and gives it a gentle squeeze. “It’s been alongtime, and hell knows, there’s a whole lotta water flowing under that bridge. Don’t think I didn’t already hear about you and the Watkins boys spending the day together at the lake.”

“Caroline—”

“It was always you and them,” she murmurs seriously. “But sometimes, when I was lucky, it was you and me. So if you need a friend in this town who isn’t Team Tommy, then you know where to find me.” She starts around me, silencing her ringing phone a second time and grabbing the bank door.

“Wait.” I turn, dragging Franky around, too. “Why aren’t you Team Tommy? What’d he do to you?”

She smirks. “Nothing. He’s my friend, too. He stayed, andeveryonesaw how he was after you left, so it’s only natural the whole crew from back then arehisfriends. Maybe they still like you, and maybe they’ll still be nice. But their loyalties are set. I never forgot you, though. Not for a single second. I reckon you must be feeling like an outsider these days, and outside is the loneliest place to be. So if you need someone to talk to, someone from back then who won’t automatically jump on the ‘we hate Alana Page’ train…” She gifts me a friendly smile. “Well, I can be that.”

Her phone trills for a third time, so she answers with a grunt and a roll of her eyes, and then she yanks the bank door open. “You know where to find me.” Bringing the phone to her ear, she bites out a sassy, “I was busy! Give me a second, Mom!”

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