Page 83 of Rise of the Melody
Ron surprised me the next morning with a text asking if I wanted to get coffee. I thought about it and texted back.
Can we go to Shehan Diner?
Of course! I like their coffee too.
I felt strange at the diner, staring around, trying to imagine where young Zar had sat with his parents. And when my blueberry pancakes came, I was horrified to realize the first bite had brought tears to my eyes. I’d cried more the past month than in my entire life combined.
Ron set down his coffee mug. “You okay?”
I dabbed at my eyes and nodded. “It’s just been a lot lately.”
“Yes, it has,” he agreed.
I ate half of my pancakes and then had an idea. “Can I get an order to go so I can have them tomorrow? I’ll pay for them.” I did have some money in an account.
“Absolutely, and no, you won’t pay.” He smiled and my heart warmed with comfort.
“Thank you,” I said. “This was nice.”
“Of course. Do you need groceries or any toiletries?”
I probably wasn’t eating as much as I should these days. I’d taken to throwing a handful of frozen nuggets in the air fryer or having a quick protein shake. I missed Aunt Lorna’s cooking and baking. And her smiles. Her general presence.
“I’m okay for now. I’ll let you know.”
He gave me a nod and then took me home.
It hurt my heart not to see CooShee on the porch waiting for me. I sat in a chair outside and when Ron went away, I yelled, “Zar! I have something for you!” Then I went into the house and waited, feeling foolish.
Twenty minutes later, to my shock, I heard his boots up the steps and rushed to open the door. His eyes roamed from my bare feet all the way up my body to my eyes, surveying me in an almost clinical way.
“Well? What’s the matter?”
“Are you living in the forest outside my house?” I blurted, noting that he didn’t look like a guy who’d been sleeping outdoors. He looked hot in his fitted light gray t-shirt and charcoal trousers.
“The cù pushed me in this direction. I thought something may have happened to you.”
I moved past him and looked around for Coosh. If he’d heard me call Zar, he’d been nearby. Was he watching over me?
“Why isn’t he here then?” I asked.
Zar shrugged. “Perhaps he feels bad.”
He should. “Come in.” I walked back past him into the house. “I have something for you.”
Zar MacCray looked shifty and suspicious when he stepped in and peered around my house, like maybe I’d set booby traps for him. I rolled my eyes and waved him into the kitchen. And then I heard a commotion and turned to see all four of our indoor cats sniffing around Zar’s legs, rubbing, stretching in front of him as if showing off, batting at his boot laces.
“Okay, geez, you all,” I said. “They never come out like this.”
He regarded them with a look of peace. It was the first time his face hadn’t been shuttered closed, and I couldn’t help but stare at his openness and how young it made him look as he watched my felines slinking around. Until he caught me looking and his face hardened again.
I took the pancakes from the fridge and put them on a plate, warming them.
He stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe, eyes narrowed. It was strange having him inside. He appeared completely out of place. Even from across the room it was like he filled the space with his energy. Like I couldn’t take a breath without breathing him in.
The microwave dinged and I brought over the pancakes, setting them on the counter with a fork and real maple syrup. I felt nervous as I crossed my arms.
“I went to Shehan diner today and brought something back for you.” I motioned dumbly to the plate.
