Page 116 of Huckleberry Hill
“That’s a good idea,” Muddy said. “But I don’t want to read any memoirs or non-fiction. Give me the spicy stuff.”
“Lord help me,” I said, glancing up at the ceiling.
“So really, when can we hang out?” Gracie asked.
“I’ll text you,” I said. “I’m not sure about my schedule.”
“Oh, I see how it is.” Gracie nodded.
“See how what is?” I demanded.
“This thing with Declan is new and all you want to do is wrap yourselves in a bubble. I remember new.”
Muddy sighed. “So do I.”
“How’s my drink coming, Abby?” I called out.
“Nearly finished,” the barista yelled back.
Gracie put the cruller into a brown pastry bag and looked at me, eyebrows raised.
“The chocolate eclair. Better make it two.” I sighed. “How much do I owe you?”
“On the house,” Gracie said with a wink. “You paid in gossip.”
I dropped a few bills into the tip jar for Abby. I took my drink and the bakery bag, and we left Sweet Teeth.
Muddy climbed into the truck and set her drink in the drink holder. “Give me that cruller. My mouth is watering.”
I dug it out of the bag and handed it to her, along with a paper napkin. We sat in the parking spot and devoured our sugar fix.
“Have you talked to Dad?” I asked after I polished off one eclair.
“Briefly,” she said. “But he’s busy. Hasn’t he called you?”
I shook my head. “Texts. Photos of goats. But that’s it.” I paused. “He took her with him, didn’t he?”
“Her who?”
“Muddy . . .”
“Yes, he took the woman he’s dating with him,” she admitted and looked at me. “Are you mad?”
“That he’s dating someone? No.”
“Are you mad he hasn’t told you about her?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I know whoever she is, she won’t replace Mom. But I kind of wish . . . I kind of wish he wasn’t hiding it.”
“But you have no plans to tell him about Declan, do you?” she asked.
I frowned. “Why would I?”
“Because it’s serious.”
“It’s not serious,” I scoffed.
“Hadley,” she said softly, reaching over and taking my hand. “Be honest with yourself.”
