“You don’t have to say anything,” I tell her, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “Just be here.”
“Thank you,” she whispers. “For everything. For being so good to her. To me.”
She looks at each of us in turn, and I see it. The wall coming down. The fear she carries around like a heavy backpack finally sliding off her shoulders.
She looks filled with emotion, overwhelmed in the best way possible.
“Anytime, Sunshine,” I say.
“Eat,” Knox says, nudging her plate with his fork. “Before the ribs get cold.Mangez, chère.”
She laughs and picks up her fork, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. The mood in the room shifts back to something warm and easy, but I can feel it. The cement setting.
We’re in this now. All four of us. And I can’t wait to see that kid tomorrow.
The clock on the wall reads five p.m. The lull between lunch prep and dinner service usually belongs to me—a time to grab a smoke, check inventory, or nap. Today, I use it to pace.
My thumb hovers over Amber’s contact name in my phone. I hit dial.
“Hey, Sunshine,” I say when she picks up. “You still alive over there?”
“Sort of.” Her voice sounds tired, but there’s a smile in it. “I’m at the grocery store. I just walked out to a flat tire.”
I stop pacing. “You drive over something?”
“A screw, I think. Or a nail. It’s hissing at me.” She sighs. “I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have parked so close to the curb.”
“Don’t do that to yourself. You’re at the store on fifth?”
“Yeah. Near the bank.”
“I’m coming over,” I say. I don’t even think about it. “I have the jack and the spare in my truck. I’ll change it for you.”
“Fallon, you don’t have to?—”
“I want to,” I cut in. “And besides, I need a chocolate fix. You were getting some, right?”
“I was getting a peace offering for being so late.” She laughs. “Don’t come just for the candy, Fall.”
“I’m coming for the tire. The candy is a bonus. Stay put. I’ll be there in ten.”
I hang up and grab my keys from the counter. Knox looks up from where he’s plating herbs, and Eli is wiping down the butcher block island.
“Problem?” Eli asks.
“Flat tire. She’s stranded.”
Knox nods. “Go. I’ll start the sauce. We can do spaghetti tonight. It’s quick.”
“Good idea.”
The drive is short. The snow from last night has turned to gray slush on the sidewalks. I find her easily, parked near the back of the lot.
She’s standing by her car, Maisie bouncing on her feet beside her. Even from a distance, the kid looks taller. She has on her red glasses and a puffy winter coat.
I pull up behind them, hopping out.
“Mommy! Look!”
