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Prologue
Winnie - Age 7
Today was the worst day ever.
I sniffed as I pulled at the hole in my jeans, making it bigger. Momma was going to be so mad that I had ripped my good school pants again. It wasn’t my fault, though. My brother, Grayson, had bet me that I couldn’t climb to the top of the tree in the front yard by myself and he knew I never turned down a bet. I was halfway up when I looked down and Gray was gone. That was when I got scared, my palms got sweaty and I couldn’t hold on to the branch anymore. Luckily, I fell on my back, only knocking the wind out of myself but not before the tree took a chunk of my pants and knee with it.
I glanced up when I heard a loud truck pulling into the driveway next door, it was one of those big ones that my best friend Jo’s family used on their ranch with extra tires in the back. That was Miss Rose’s house. Well, it used to be until she left to go live with her son in Houston. Miss Rose had fallen and broken her leg a few months ago. Momma said she was going to have to stay in the hospital for a few days and when she came home her son was already packing up her things.
The house had been empty ever since then but the boxes in the back of the huge truck meant new neighbors. I straightened up and wiped my face, maybe they had kids. Someone my age that would want to play the games I wanted, instead of stupid Gray who was “too mature for baby games” now that he was twelve.
The door to the truck opened and a big man got out and stretched while he looked at Miss Rose’s house. I heard another door slam shut and saw a boy walk around the truck to stand next to the man. He was tall, taller than Gray, with black hair and tan skin. I watched the man clap the boy on the shoulder and say something to him I couldn’t hear before going inside the house. The boy turned and looked right at me for a moment with eyes so dark they looked black. He started walking toward my house.
“Why are you crying?” he asked as he stopped at the bottom of the stairs I was sitting on and slid his hands into his pockets.
“I fell out of the tree,” I pointed to the big Magnolia in the front yard. He turned and regarded the tree for a moment before looking back at me. Saying nothing, his dark eyes took in the hole in my jeans I was still picking at. The boy was wearing jeans, too, and a black t-shirt with no pictures or anything. I felt my cheeks heat as I crossed my arms over my t-shirt with the flying unicorns on it, he looked very grown up and I didn’t want him to think I was a baby like Gray said. I shifted on the hard brick steps when he still hadn’t said anything and continued to stare at me. Why wasn’t he talking? I loved to talk and ask questions. Maybe he was waiting for me to askhima question, Momma always said it was rude to only talk about yourself.
“Are you moving in next door with your parents? Miss Rose, the lady who used to live there, made the best oatmeal cookies with chocolate chips not raisins, because raisins are gross. She would bring some to me every time she made them. Gray would try and take them but I always hid a few so I could save them for later. Does your Momma make cookies?”
“I don’t have a mom,” he kicked some rocks with his black tennis shoes. They were dark, too, everything about the boy was dark, dark, dark. “Who is Gray?”
“Oh, um, Gray is my big brother.” I had never met anyone who didn’t have a mom before. Who tucked him in and gave him kisses when he fell out of trees? Did his daddy do those things for him? My daddy did funny voices that made me laugh when he read me stories. It made my heart hurt to think of my Momma being gone, I wondered if the boy’s heart hurt, too.
“What’s your name?” he asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.
“Winnie James. Well, Winifred,” I scrunched my nose. “But that is a grandma name, everyone calls me Winnie.”
“Anyone ever call you Fred?” He smirked as he rocked back on his heels. Why would he want black shoes? I loved all the colors, my own tennis shoes were rainbow tie-dyed and I thought they were the best ever.
“No,” I stuck out my tongue at him. “That’s a boy’s name.” The screen door behind me suddenly burst open with a bang and Gray jumped all three steps at once to land in front of the new boy.
“Hey, man, who are you?” Gray was being rude, but I desperately wanted to know the boy’s name, too, so I didn’t point that out.
“Kane. Kane Rodriguez,” the boy responded.
Kane, Kane, Kane, I repeated it over and over in my head, loving the way it sounded. I had never met anyone with that name before and that made it very special.
“Oh cool, you just moved in next door?” Gray asked, looking at the boxes in the truck. The boy, Kane, nodded his head. “I was just going to meet up with some guys to play basketball, want to come?”
“Sure,” Kane said. My stomach dropped and I swallowed back more tears. Awesome, Gray just stole my new friend and now I wouldn’t get to ask him any of the questions I had about where he came from and why he moved to Little Falls.
“Great,” Gray turned back to me. “Tell Mom I will be back for supper, okay, kid?” I glared at him in answer, stupid friend stealer. He spun around and started walking toward the park. I looked up at Kane to see him smirking down at me again.
“Later, Fred,” he said as he jogged backwards. Kane Rodriguez. Maybe it wasn’t the worst day ever after all.
1
Winnie
Ipoured the water into the coffee maker and pushed the start button. The smell of the coffee brewing first thing in the morning at the Little Falls Diner was my absolute favorite. It was comforting, a smell that meant home. My parents had bought the diner when Gray was just a baby. Dad did most of the cooking when we were little and Mom most of the waitressing, with the help of local high school and college kids that needed part-time jobs after school and in the summer.
The vintage aesthetic hadn’t changed much since I was a child. The glittering blue vinyl still adorned the benches and chairs that sat around laminate and chrome tables. Framed photographs of the town’s namesake waterfall hung next to awkward childhood photos of me and Gray smiling with our parents and customers. The original cash register still stood at the check-out counter even though it had stopped being functional years ago. But Little Falls was a town that ran slower than most and didn’t like too much change.
Employee uniforms were the only major difference in the almost thirty years the Jameses had been the owners and there were still townsfolk that complained about it. When I was a teenager, I convinced my parents to retire the dated and itchy polyester dresses for a more modern white t-shirt with the logo on the breast pocket. We could choose pants or shorts and most days I wore cut-offs. A navy-blue apron and tennis shoes completed my outfit and I was thankful for the comfortable attire when I was on my feet for hours every day serving food.
The back booth of the diner was where Gray and I did most of our homework growing up. When we were old enough, it was expected that we would help out. Our parents started us off with small tasks like refilling ketchup bottles and rolling silverware, eventually we graduated to waiting on customers and busing tables.
Gray never enjoyed working in the family’s diner but for me it was my dream job. I was able to see and talk to people all day, I got to see the kids who came in with their families grow up, to see first dates turn into relationships. I was a part of everyone’s lives and that was an honor.
