Page 2 of Secret Paths

She reaches for the cloth on the counter and flicks it against my arm.

“Ow.”

“You earned that.”

“I was agreeing with you.”

“You were enjoying it.”

“I can do both.”

Her mouth curves.

It is not a dramatic smile. Mandy rarely does anything dramatically. It is just there for a second, tired and amused, and it makes the room feel warmer than it did a moment ago.

“You were good tonight,” I say.

She keeps polishing. “At cutlery?”

“At everything else.”

That makes her pause.

“I mostly handed out tissues and got people glasses of water.”

“You talked the bride out of going home.”

“She wanted five minutes away from everyone.”

“She wanted to get in a taxi and leave her own wedding.”

Mandy puts a fork in the drawer. “She was overwhelmed.”

“You made her laugh.”

She smiles again, though her gaze stays on the drawer.

“You were helpful too,” she says.

I turn towards her. “Helpful?”

“Do not make it weird.”

“I am only clarifying.”

“You carried tables, sorted the late drinks delivery and got the groom’s friends off the dance floor before one of them broke a leg.”

“I hid their tequila.”

“You did that too.”

“Very heroic of me.”

Mandy folds the cloth over in her hands. “You were there whenever somebody needed something.”

For a second, I do not answer.

It should not mean much. I am helping at my sister’s pub because she found herself short staffed. It is what I’m expected to do.