Page 19 of Resurrection
"Then what is?"
"You not forgiving me."
I take a deep breath, trying to let that sink in. Trying to let him back in. The things I want to say become muddled, and I end up with nothing. The park bench sits empty, the paint chipped and worn from years of desert heat and neglect. I look at it, then back at Tyler. "I should go," I say instead, turning away before I change my mind. "I have a house full of people."
I walk away, feeling exposed and raw and more alive than I have in years.
6NAOMI
My father usedto say this desert—this land that belonged to our ancestors—cures everything. Maybe that’s why after years of traveling the world, I ended up back here—to recover from that blow Tyler Brady delivered to my heart seventeen years ago when he left Sageview Ridge without telling me.
Or maybe that’s the excuse I like to use instead of admitting that I failed miserably.
"Chef!" Kelvin shouts from the freezer, yanking me out of my thoughts. "We’re running low on vanilla custard!"
"Do we have enough for tonight’s dinner?"
"Hard to say. There’s a basketball game tonight."
"Jimmy’s may have some!" Sonia supplies from behind the counter, where she’s prepping fresh salmon.
"Call them before you go," I instruct Kelvin.
"Yes, Chef!"
"You really don’t need to call me chef, K," I remind him. This isn’t an episode ofThe Bear. I prefer people use my actual name."
"You got it, Chef." Kelvin grins and disappears into the tiny office to call Jimmy’s Market.
The preparation for rush hour completely erases any thoughts of Tyler Brady or the fact that’s it’s only been a week since we buried Dad, and for the next thirty minutes, my mind is focused on the cutting board and the spices I stir into the sizzling pan.
Kelvin is off to Jimmy’s to get that extra custard. We can’t risk not having enough dessert if both teams show up at the casino after the game. I hate having items on the menu and not being able to serve them. Dad was the same way with The Gobbler. He’d write out the menu on the board by hand before he opened up every single day.
"Hey." Sonia elbows me as she passes by. "That guy at the bar has been staring at you like you owe him a million bucks."
I turn around and look through the glass wall separating the kitchen area from the dining room and see the tattooed ghost sitting at the bar counter, facing me. He's by himself, glaring down at the drink in his hand.
What the hell is he doing here?
My pulse immediately ratchets up. Then, before he notices that I’m looking at him, I tear my gaze away and shift my eyes toward the stove.
Unfortunately, I feel Tyler’s presence more than I’d like to admit. He shouldn’t be here. I thought he wouldn’t have the guts. I thought he’d be long gone. Doing whatever it is rockstars do.
I wipe my cheek with the back of my hand. Damn onions.
Sonia rounds the corner with an empty tray but slows down next to me and asks, "You need help?" Her smile is wide but concerned.
"Yeah, if you don’t mind." I pass her the wooden spoon after she puts the tray down. "Stir it every thirty seconds. And if you smell smoke, call the fire department."
She fakes a frown. "Real funny,mami."
I wipe my hands on a towel I keep in the back pocket of my work pants. Then I walk into the bar area.
"You need anything, Naomi?" the bartender, Javier, asks while mixing a margarita.
I shake my head. "No. Just wanted to say hi to a customer."
"Right on." Javier smiles and resumes his task.
