I didn’t think my sister actually wanted to hear that I was slightly nauseous over my ex-husband’s proximity. And even if she did,Ididn’t want the world to know I was this weak.
Everything was so complicated. How could you still miss someone who’d broken all your walls and then buried you in them? That beneath the bitterness and resentment I couldn’tseem to scrub away, there was a layer of hurt and bewilderment that somehow my marriage had ended here, with me tense and clammy-handed at the other side of the bowling alley, faking happiness.
My sister’s concerned stare was burning a hole in the side of my head, but I ignored her. Finally, she gave up and walked back to the table behind our lane, her dark ponytail swinging.
Once I had the computer all set up, I joined my teammates.
“I got you a corn dog,” Candace said, nudging the paper tray in my direction.
We cheers’d, tapping our deep-fried dinners together before taking huge bites. Candace was smiling so hard, hers nearly fell out of her mouth.
Candace Judd and I hadn’t been friends long, but we’d clicked right away. She’d returned to Kirby Falls two summers ago after a bad breakup and job loss.
As kids and adolescents, we’d only vaguely been in each other’s orbits. At five years her senior, I hadn’t been in any of Candace’s classes or extracurriculars, but I’d always known who she was, if not the details of her life. She’d been the popular girl, the valedictorian and the homecoming queen, whip smart and goal oriented. Candace had been a prime example of a successful small-town girl making good in the big city.
But she hadn’t been happy there. Luckily, upon her return, she’d found her place, incidentally, working at her family’s orchard. She handled things behind the scenes with social media and marketing, as well as on outreach and education, planning group tours and local student field trips.
Judd’s Orchard was across the street from Grandpappy’s—my family’s farm—and had a somewhat smaller, more niche operation when compared to Grandpappy’s sprawling acreage and year-round attractions.
Candace worked with her parents, her boyfriend, Mark Mercer, her brother, Brady, and her sister, Joan.
Speaking of Joan, she was watching us happily devour our corn dogs with a look of disgust. “I don’t know how you can eat that.”
“Junk food is good for the soul, Joanie,” Candace told her sister before wiping mustard from the corner of her mouth.
I laughed into my napkin at the horror on Joan’s face.
She was a healthy person who had nailed that whole treat-your-body-like-a-temple thing. She ran nearly every morning—on purpose—and ate well. At thirty-five, she was in way better shape than the rest of us sitting at this table.
I reached into my bag and pulled out the granola I’d made for her, along with the high-protein yogurt cup I’d packed before leaving the house. “Here you go, Joan.”
Her dark eyebrows drew together. “You didn’t need to do that.”
Smiling, I assured her, “I know. But the food here isn’t really your speed, and I didn’t want you to be miserable until you could get home. I know you don’t like to eat too late at night. There’s a whole big batch of that granola. I’ll bring the rest by the orchard for you.”
“You made it?”
“Yeah. It has flax and chia seeds, almonds, pumpkin seeds, and a little bit of vanilla and honey.”
“Thank you, Bonnie,” Joan said earnestly. She was a serious person by nature, not given over to silliness or flights of fancy. Basically, the last person on the planet who would willingly plan a bachelorette party or be caught line dancing. Even still, I could tell she was genuinely touched by my gesture.
I grinned. “You’re welcome.”
See, that was how a polite exchange went when you made something for someone and they accepted it graciously. Jack could stand to take some lessons.
Speaking of Jack, I’d scrolled back through our early-morning texts more times than I should probably admit. In the light of day, I wasn’t anymoreembarrassed, but I definitely wasn’t planning on texting him again. I’d done my duty and sent the required message about Brady helping. Everything else had been ... extra. A pleasant surprise. A surreptitious mishap. A nocturnal emission.No, wait. That wasn’t right.
“Are we going to talk about why Brady went out today and bought a printer and is currently at home fighting with said printer in order to print out sample soccer training agendas and a practice schedule for a bunch of eight-year-old girls?”
“What?” Candace asked. “Why would my brother be doing that?”
“I don’t know,” Mac replied, fluttering her lashes. “You want to tell the class, Bon?”
Brady must have told Mac about coaching. I’d expected it. Brady was a good guy like that.
Sighing, I muttered, “It’s because I asked Brady if he’d be willing to help coach one of the parks and rec teams. Some of my second graders.”
“Did Eloise guilt you into volunteering or something?” Candace wondered before taking another bite of corn dog.
