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When I have ten minutes until I have to be back, I walk out of the brewery, after saying hello to Shiloh and Ramon behind the bar. I’m barely out the door before I’m stopped by Miriam Oliver.
“Hello, dear,” she says, blocking my exit from my family’s business.
My body cringes at her use of “dear.” She may be sweet-looking, with short hair and her recently acquired turquoise frames, but she is the devil incarnate, and the devil loves petty gossip. This woman is the bane of my existence.
Miriam has a sliding scale of meddling in my family’s affairs. After I screamed at her after she outed me in front of the whole town on Labor Day weekend for revealing I was pregnant before I was ready to announce it, she keeps a wide berth.
Once and awhile, Miriam forgets. I have the sneaking suspicion it’s because I’m a girl.
Miriam refuses to move. She knows I won’t plow through an old lady, no matter how much I hate her.
“Leland and I were enjoying a nice mid-day beer, and I saw you out and about. It was your birthday recently, correct?”
“Yes.”
“How old are you now, my dear?”
I’m too young to get mad with someone asking my age. “Thirty.”
“Oh, thirty. Such an important milestone. You know, we just passed by Ice Dream, and we saw Olive there with a young man. Dressed very nicely.”
Her thin fuchsia-colored lips press together, waiting for me to answer. I just fold my arms.
“I vaguely remember a summer where you were seeing a boy. I saw you once at the lake together.”
I do not answer, dwelling in the uncomfortable silence.
“Olive sure looks like him.”
I’m not sure how she knows because Max’s features are barely visible from the window, but okay. I wouldn’t put it past Miriam to make an excuse to go to the bathroom to scope out the situation. My daughter has never really interacted with Miriam, so she wouldn’t recognize her.
I love this town, but everyone is so goddamn nosy.
“Miriam, just spit out your question. I have somewhere to be.”
Miriam grabs her chest like I’m the rude one. “Is that him?”
“It’s none of your business, Miriam.” I walk around her, but she grabs my arm, digging her nails into my flesh.
My eyes widen as I look down at her.
“I just wanted to say that if he is back in town, I think that’s wonderful. I—” Her voice cracks, and she looks down. She cowers, and her lips quiver.
“Miriam, I have to go.”
Whatever she wanted to say, I don’t want to hear. If she wants to apologize, she’s about ten years too late. Finally, she lets go of my arm.
“I just wish you and Olive the best of luck. That’s all.”
I mutter “Thank you” as I walk out the door.
20
Max
“So, does your mom like Burke?” Playing it off, I stare at my milkshake. My daughter sits across from me with a smaller version, sucking it dry.
“I think so.”
