Page 66 of One Small Spark
“My mom’s boyfriend is the sheriff, you know. He could arrest you for stalking.”
“Then you’d better send me that text.”
That earns an eye roll, but I don’t think she’s as annoyed as she’s letting on. She pulls herself from my arms, though, and I step back, watching her climb into her car. She slams the door like she wishes I was closer to it, practically peeling out on the gravel drive a moment later.
I round my truck to the driver’s side, glancing over the row of cars in front of the house. The entire book group was preparing to leave when we walked out, and Wren and I wereout here for at least fifteen minutes. Surprising that none of the women opted to leave during our protracted goodbye.
Most likely, the absolute silence out here means they’ve been watching us from inside the house so they wouldn’t interrupt.
Sighing, I climb into my truck and echo Wren’s sentiment. “Menaces.”
NINETEEN
WREN
“I needthe plate of fries to be as big as my face.” I pass Delish’s menu to Amy Ellison. It was only ever a formality. “Bring me all the potatoes you have.”
Drowning myself in salty carbs seems appropriate.
Amy marks my order on her notepad. “Burger with cheese and avocado and a whole mess of fries. Need dessert tonight?”
“Probably not.” I should show some restraint. Goodness knows, I don’t have much of it in the rest of my life.
“Are you going to kiss me or what?”Pathetic. Proven by the fact that he went with “or what.”
“Jodi made dulce de leche cheesecake,” Amy adds.
“I’ll take a slice of that, too, please.” I long ago decided calories only count if I’m the one who prepared them. I will gladly eat treats made by someone else.
She makes another mark. “Everything okay, honey?”
Amy owns and runs Delish with her wife, Jodi. Beyond serving the best food in town, they’re generous with listening ears and impartial advice. They’re close with my mom, and from all the times we’ve blabbed to them, they’ve become unofficial aunts for me and Hope. Since they’re Ian’s actualaunts, we’re practically in-laws. They’re awesome. But I can only handle spilling my guts to one person tonight.
I gesture at Hope, who’s sitting across from me and already ordered a more reasonably sized platter of fries. “I’m here for therapy.”
Amy nods. “Holler if you need anything else.”
“I will.” She walks away, and I shift my attention to my best friend. “So.”
Hope waits, eyes wide. “So?”
I asked her to come out with me tonight alone. I was very specific about the last word. I’m not ready for Tess and Lila to know all my sordid secrets, and there’s no way I could say anything in front of Griffin. But I didn’t give her much to go on—just asked for an emergency girls’ night as soon as she closed up her shop.
She delivered on her part. She’s here, ready and willing. Now, I just have to follow through on mine.
Easier said than done. Well, in this case, thesayingis actually the hard part. Easier done than said.
I’m terrible at mushy stuff. I’m meant to push my feelings down until they’re a hard lump of coal in the pit of my stomach. I don’t whip them out and pass them around like a baby at a family reunion. But if I keep swinging between anger and confusion, I’m going to do something stupid.
Stupider.
I barely functioned today at work. My eyes were so glued to the bakery’s front door, you’d think I was eagerly waiting for an online order to arrive. Every time someone passed the windows, I glanced up,hoping.
It’s that hope I’m not sure what to do with.
I suck in a deep breath. “There have been some…changes…on the Callahan front.”
Hope smiles. My stomach twists. This was a mistake. I can just carry on like I’ve been doing, without any clarity from my friend. Sure, I’m pretty much flailing wildly in the dark, like I’ve been shoved into a wet paper bag and am trying to punch my way to safety. Half the time, I’m pretty sure I’m only hurting myself.
