The scrape of boots on the gravel path interrupts my thoughts, and I turn just in time to see Sean … carrying two heaping plates.
“Mind if I join you?” he says, sitting right next to me.
Not across from me.
Why does that make me want to cry?
He puts the smaller of the two plates down in front of me, but it’s still almost overflowing. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, so I got you some of everything that looked good. Including your deviled eggs.”
I scoff. “What was I thinking using homemade aioli? No one’s going to like them.”
He takes one off his plate and puts the entire thing in his mouth. He gives me a “not bad” look as he chews, and after he swallows, he nods. “Wow. That’s a good deviled egg.”
“Do you realize I’ve talked more about deviled eggs in the last two days than I have in my entire lifetime?”
He coughs and then pats his chest, like I caught him mid-swallow. “Whoa, jumping straight to childhood trauma already, are we? It's okay. I can handle it.”
“Ha.” I bump his arm with mine and then look at the plate, which may as well be Mount Everest for how daunting it is. “This was thoughtful of you. But I’m not hungry.”
My stomach chooses that moment to growl. Angrily.
“You sure?”
I wince. “The truth is, I don’t really eat in front of people.”
I force myself to keep my eyes on the plate in front of me, some of it mouthwatering enough to make me wish I hadn’t said anything. But tension coils in my stomach like a drawstring pulled too tight.
Sean has just taken a bite of sweet potatoes, so I have to wait for him to respond. And wait.
“I didn’t realize that,” he finally says. “Do you mind if I do?”
“Not at all. I’m sorry. It’s a …” I pause, wondering how little I can get away with telling him. Wondering if the pain of remembering will ever ease up.
Sean puts a hand over mine briefly. “You don’t have to have a reason, and you sure don’t have to apologize. You not wanting to eat in front of someone is enough for me.”
I laugh in relief. “Where did you come from?”
He chokes on a bite of sweet potato. “Beg your pardon?”
I smile. We’re so close that we have to turn to look at each other, but getting a crick in my neck is worth it to see Sean up close when I catch him off guard. “You’re a really good guy, Sean.”
My voice is a bit too quiet when I say this, making it seem like I’m sharing a part of my soul instead of a simple compliment.
He smiles. “Thanks, Kayla. And keep your chin up. Being new in town ain’t easy, but you’re doing better than you think you are.”
“That’s nice of you to say. Uninformed and naive, but nice,” I say, earning a laugh.
“I’m serious,” he protests.
“Oh, really? How do you know that?”
“When Eunice went in for seconds, she grabbed one of your deviled eggs.”
I break into a grin.
Sean looks at me differently than the rest of the town. I don’t feel like a failure with him. Or a misfit.
I feel … comfortable. Like I can be myself.
