Page 13 of Unraveling Rain
After three and a half hours driving, I need a break.
I take the exit into town, and even though the GPS says I’m fifteen minutes away from Serene Lookout, I decide to park and check out what’s happening downtown for a bit.
Ruin said I could arrive anytime today, so I don’t need to rush.
There’s a bakery, an apothecary, some gift shops, and florists on the main street. It all seems well-kept and inviting.
But what catches my eye is the diner—the Rustic Spoon. I’ve always had a thing for places with outdoor seating. Nothing beats a cold beer and good food while watching the sunset.
I can already picture how the sun’s rays will paint the mountains as the moon rises over this place.
A bell chimes as I open the door. The scent of garlic, spices, and grease hits me all at once, and my stomach makes an ungodly sound.
Fuck, if the food tastes as good as it smells, this place might just be my downfall.
There’s a sign that says Seat Yourself, so I choose a table by a window. People-watching is one of my favorite ways to pass time, especially in a new place.
Before I can even glance at the menu, I hear someone making apsstsound. I look around the diner, which is pretty much empty after the lunch rush.
Then I spot an older woman sitting at a table across the room. When our eyes lock, she smiles and waves me over.
“Hello, dear. I hope I’m not intruding, but I saw you sitting alone and thought I’d ask if you wanted to keep me company.”
Shit.
She seems sweet, but I wasn’t planning on staying long.
“I just stopped by to get something to drink,” I say, scratching the back of my neck.
I don’t want to be rude, but I still need to get settled at Serene Lookout.
“I promise it won’t take long. Humor me, please,” she says with a twinkle in her eye.
Letting out a deep breath, I nod and take a seat across from her.
“So, what would you like to drink, dear?” she asks, and I give her a puzzled look.
“My family owns this place. Your drink is on me.”
I smile. “An ice-cold sweet tea would be amazing, thank you.”
She lifts her hand, and—like magic—a waiter appears beside us.
“Do you mind bringing an ice-cold tea for…” She trails off.
“Xander,” I offer.
“For Xander,” she repeats with a warm smile. “And a cherry vine for me, please.”
The waiter nods and scurries away.
I settle back in my chair, watching her as she watches me. She’s got the kind of presence you don’t ignore—calm, curious, and just a little mischievous. I was expecting a simple drink, but now I’m not so sure.
“So, Xander—nice to meet you. I’m Freya MacAllister, but everyone calls me Granny.” She offers her hand, and I shake it gently.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Xander González. Thank you so much for the drink,” I say, relaxing into the seat.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here,” she says, narrowing her eyes a bit.
