Page 63 of Mack

“Yes.” Mallory nodded. “Exactly that.”

They sat with it for a moment, the diner moving around them, and Mallory felt something loosen that she hadn’t known was still held tight.

“He chose well,” Juliana said finally, picking up her fork. “My son.”

Mallory looked down at her plate and smiled.

“I think I did too,” she said quietly.

After lunch they walked back to the shop together. Mallory unlocked the door and held it open.

“Let me bag everything up. Do you want to look around a little more?” She grinned.

“I do not.” Juliana laughed. “I have no idea where I’m going to put all of this as it is. Max is going to shake his head. It’s all he ever does.”

Mallory gathered everything from behind the counter, rang it up, wrapped each piece carefully in tissue paper, and tucked it all into a bag. She held it out across the counter.

“I’m so glad you came in today.”

“So am I.” Juliana came around the counter and hugged her, warm and unhesitating, how she seemed to do everything. Then she picked up her bag, gave a little wave, and walked out.

Mallory stood at the window and watched her cross the street, climb into her car, and pull out of the spot. She stood there until the car disappeared around the corner.

Then she went back to work, and the rest of the afternoon moved quickly as all good days do. Before she knew it, she was locking up and heading to her parents’ house to collect T.J., wondering what he’d gotten into and already smiling about it.

****

Mack was dragging by the time he reached the parking lot. Past six, cold, and ready to be done with the day. He thought about stopping in to see Mallory and dismissed it. They’d both be up early and they’d settled into a rhythm of weekends and lunch when they could manage it. It worked. He didn’t want to push it.

He climbed into the truck and sat for a moment before starting it.

He thought about his mother having lunch with Mallory and grinned. Then he thought about it a little longer and the grin faded.

Juliana Reinhardt loved her son. She also had absolutely no filter when it came to telling people so. There was a real possibility that she’d spent an hour building him up to a woman he was trying very hard not to pressure, and that was not ideal.

He pressed the button on the steering wheel and called her before he’d fully decided to.

She answered on the second ring. “I was wondering when you’d call.” He could hear the smile in her voice.

“What did you say to her?”

“Hello to you too, Mack.”

“Mom.”

“I had a lovely lunch with a lovely woman,” Juliana said, unbothered. “You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t ask you to have lunch with her.”

“No, but I did anyway and it was wonderful so I’m not sure what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not worried. I just—” He pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street. “I don’t want her feeling like she’s being pushed into something.”

“Mack.” His mother’s voice softened. “I didn’t push anything. We had soup and coffee. We talked and laughed and that was all.”

“What did you talk about?”

“Things.”