Page 69 of I'll Be There
Not unlike Conner, who suddenly dipped her, the song coming to an end. Liza let out a tiny yelp, and he laughed.Whatever information he’d gleaned today from his contact, apparently it had healed him.
Maybe.
Except for that crazy kiss in the library, the one where she thought, just for a moment, he might be losing himself—or maybe trying to hang on.
Just her imagination. She was letting her past stir up doubts.
Conner took her hand and led her to the pizza buffet. Handed her a plate.
Outside the sun had begun to set, sending golden rays of fire into the front pane windows. From the kitchen, the smells of more pizza cooking wafted out. The Monkeys started in on “Twist and Shout,” courtesy of the Beatles, and Liza laughed at the sight of Pete and Reuben twisting as they carried their full plates to a booth.
Perfect day. And tomorrow...she sighed, leaned over, and kissed Conner as he dished up a piece of pepperoni.
“What?”
“I’m just...happy.” Healed. Strong. “And I need to tell you something later, okay?”
A tiny crease of his brow, then he nodded.
“Nothing bad.”
The crease released. “Pizza?”
“One. Only cheese.”
He dished her up.
She noticed Grace’s expression as she turned to find a table. She stood as if frozen, only her eyes moving, as if she might be smelling something.
And that only alerted Liza to...yes, something...burning.
She caught the smell the same time Grace did, but Grace walked past her, squeezing her arm. “I got this. Probably a pizza went too long.”
As Liza set her plate on the table, she noticed the finest wisp of smoke floating across the ceiling, spiriting out into the dining room.
Conner noticed it too. “Stay here.”
“Hardly.” Liza followed him back into the kitchen.
Oh. My—
Grace stood before an open oven, fanning smoke from a burning pizza. Flames licked out of the oven, tongues curling around the frame.
“Look out!” Conner rushed into action, grabbing a towel and pulling the pizza out of the oven, onto the floor. He threw the towel on it, began to stamp out the flames. “What happened?”
Grace held another towel over her nose. “I don’t know—I just opened the door and suddenly it was on fire.”
“Flashover pizza,” Pete said, appearing at the door. He held his pizza like a sandwich and shoved the rest into his mouth. “Need help?” he said, over the food, to Conner.
Conner had destroyed the pizza, and part of the floor, probably. “Where are the cooks?”
Good question. Liza looked around. Not a soul but them in the kitchen.
And somehow, despite the pizza fire being doused, smoke still churned into the kitchen. Grace opened the other oven. “Nothing here.”
Pete had hopped up on the counter and now touched the ceiling. “It’s hot.”
Conner picked up a broom. “It’s a drop ceiling. Liza, get back—” He motioned Grace and Liza toward the door, pushed the ceiling panel away.
