Page 5 of 518 Hope Ave
He bites the inside of his cheek as if holding himself back from saying what's on his mind.
"What, Luke? What's on your mind?" I prod.
He sighs and looks into my eyes before speaking his next words, "Take the money from my college fund."
"Absolutely not," I immediately say, perhaps a bit too harshly. Lucas jumps in surprise. I sigh and place a hand on his arm. "You're too smart tonotgo to college, man. Just… Don't worry." I pull out the mop and a broom and hand one to him. "We've got this… OK?"
5
Quinn
"Don't forget to read the book this time!" a friend yells in a teasing tone as I leave the Secret Garden Bookstore.
“And mess with wine club? No way,” I say, earning a chuckle from the remaining members of the book club as I step out onto the street. My heart feels light—as it always does after a good session with the group—and I walk to my car, humming a tune that has been stuck in my head. My hand hovers over the door handle as I catch myself humming. My brain immediately goes into hyperdrive, trying to remember where I heard the song or who the song is even by.
Nada.
"Goddamn earworms," I grumble to myself as I get into the car and my stomach grumbles in response. "All right, let's get some food into you then," I say, chuckling to myself, and I get the car started. Glancing at the dashboard clock, I realize that there aren't many options for food this late in Cherry Falls. Just one, to be precise.
The Virgin Street Diner.
I park outside then make a beeline to my favorite booth by a window, my heart doing a nervous flutter at the sight of Ezra heading toward me and my table.He doesn’t normally work this late.
I’d know. As creepy as it may seem, I take note of a lot of things about him. Partly because we both lost our parents and I empathize with him, but also because he’s damn fine to look at. Easy on the eyes, my nana would say.
Ezra arrives and stands by the end of the table, slightly flustered since the diner is unusually busy. I smile up at him. "Long shift?"
"Extrashift," he says before giving me a half-hearted smile. "What can I get you?"
"Is that hot?" I ask, pointing to the coffee jug in his hand.
He nods. "Yup. Just brewed it myself."
I smile brightly. "Exactly what I want to hear. I'll have a cup, and an omelet with hash and bacon, please."
He returns my smile, a light sparking behind his tired eyes. Pouring me a fresh cup of joe, he replies. "Coming right up, Ms. Hartsworth. Sorry, Quinn."
He heads off to tell the kitchen my order, and I take out my book club assignment for next week. Tomas, the owner of the bookstore, thought it would be fun if we all read a favorite childhood book and had suggested we readThe Very Hungry Caterpillarto discuss the different implications of the text during the world’s shifting mindset, a great exercise analyzing children's books through the eyes of adults.
So, here I am, a grown-ass woman in her local diner trying to readThe Very Hungry Caterpillar.
"Here you go," Ezra says as he places my plate full of food in front of me then scampers off to serve another customer.
I take a bite out of my omelet and melt into the booth. Hands down, this isthebest diner omelet I've ever had in my life, and I'm more than willing to fight for it. The soft, fluffy eggs are made even more perfect thanks to the grease of the bacon on the side. The potato hash just brings the dish together—crunchy and fluffy, greasy and flavorful.Delicious.
I pick up another mouthful and scan the room while I eat, purposely avoiding actually reading my book. Despite it being pretty late, the diner is full of night owls tonight. Ezra seems to be the only one on floor duty and is running around taking orders, sending them,andclearing up the tables while Amelia handles the counter. I thought he seemed stressed when I saw him last, a few days ago, but tonight he just seems world-weary.
A pang hits me deep within my heart. I still feel terribly guilty that I had to be the bearer of stress the other day, despite knowing how hard he has been struggling since his parents had passed. Life has been cruel to him, and although he seems to be pushing through the best he can, there's only so much we can handle before we break.I wish I could help him...
I clean up the food on my plate, save for licking off all the juices. Then I pick upThe Very Hungry Caterpillarand sip the rest of my coffee. Every so often, my eyes peek from the top of the book to watch Ezra as he works. I notice the way his biceps flex and relax as he picks up orders and sets them in front of customers. The curve of his ass when he bends over to wipe the farthest edge of the tables. The way his dark brown eyes glance at me curiously…
I hide my eyes behind my book and feel my face heat. My heart flutters and butterflies erupt from the depths of my belly.
I gulp the last dregs of my coffee and call for the check, fumbling through my bag to find my purse.
“How was everything?” Ezra asks as he slides the bill onto the table.
“Perfect as always,” I say, smiling up at him before he nods and rushes off to serve another customer. Counting out the money and tip, I pause before adding a little extra in the hopes it’ll somehow ease Ezra’s burdens a little.
