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Eight months.
She hadn’t heard from her sister in eight months. That worried her for Sutton, but Tatum was terrified for Bryony.
“Hey.”
Tatum felt the tension in her shoulders drain when she entered the coffee house and heard Everleigh’s voice. She swung her bag up to the table and dropped her keys before glancing toward the counter. Had Charlie already been in this morning? Had he told his mom about running into her at The Bullpen? Or had he made it sound like a date?
What if he told his brothers? And made it sound like a date. Tatum didn’t have time for games. Just the thought threatened to put her in a bad mood.
“Gosh, it’s hot out there today!” Again, Everleigh’s voice worked a little magic.
“It’s warm,” Tatum agreed as she made her way up to the counter.
“You can sit down.” Everleigh waved her away. “I’ll bring it to you.”
Tatum smiled, appreciating the younger woman’s sunshiny attitude. But she wanted to fish a bit and see if Charlie had made some grand announcement. Then again, what if he told Adele that he had invited Tatum to join him, and she had put him in his place? No denying it was true, but Charlie could spin that story a lot of ways. While Tatum wasn’t interested in finding a new BFF or dating even a nice guy like Charlie, she didn’t want his whole family to think she was a bitch, either.
“What’d you do last night?” she asked Everleigh. No way she was going to just flat out ask the girl if Charlie had said anything. Odds were, that would give her the wrong impression. But she could tiptoe around the question for a minute, prod the elephant in the room and see if it hollered.
“Me?” Everleigh arched her eyebrows but quickly turned them down into a frown. “Nothing exciting. Laundry, actually. Hung out with Mal for a bit after that.”
Tatum nodded. On the one hand, that didn’t tell her much. Like whether Charlie had called or texted Mal last night or barged in this morning talking about his dinner. Then again if he had, Everleigh would ask her outright, wouldn’t she?
“You?”
“I went shopping.”
“You did?” Everleigh’s eyes grew wide with excitement. She leaned as far over the counter as she could to examine Tatum’s jeans and Rolling Stones t-shirt. “New jeans? Super cute!”
“Not that kind of shopping,” Tatum answered with a quiet laugh. “Got some stuff for the apartment.”
“Oh.” Everleigh nodded. “Like what?”
“Well, a bookcase was the main thing. Picked up a new picture frame.”
“You’re a reader?”
“Yeah. Come see my bookcase and borrow a book anytime.”
“Thank you.”
Everleigh turned away from her to grab a mug. When she poured Tatum’s coffee and handed it to her and still didn’t mention Charlie, Tatum assumed he hadn’t come in here first thing this morning and made an announcement.
Somewhat at ease, she carried her mug back to her table and sat. Across the room, Everleigh hummed as she wiped down the counter and then bustled around to the other tables to check on other customers. Tatum took a moment to sip her coffee and breathe. Think. Not that it ever did much good. She did a lot of thinking. About the past. About Sutton and Bryony.
Now and then she let herself think about Shaun.
Determined not to fall down that dark hole, she put her mug down and reached for her bag. Many of the customers here were familiar faces to her now. She nodded at a few people and offered smiles, but she rarely got suckered into small talk. That was another thing she liked about the place. The regulars were either always here with someone else and therefore didn’t want to chit chat, or like her, they were here with a laptop, clearly with the intent of working and didn’t want conversation.
She had no idea how much time had passed when her phone buzzed. A quick look around told her more people had come inside. All the tables were full now, and Tatum felt a flash of guilt. She should get up and get out of here, let someone else sit down at her place. Adele had told her not to worry about it; that she was always welcome, and she could stay as long as she liked. On the occasions that the place looked busy enough that Tatum should offer her table up to someone else, she always walked a generous tip up to the jar on the counter.
The iPhone was still buzzing.
Tatum pretended not to notice the tremble in her fingers as she reached to pick it up. It wouldn’t be Sutton. Out of the blue, after feeling guilty—relieved?—for leaving her phone in her car last night and then dreaming of her, it wouldn’t be Sutton on the phone now.
And yet, that’s how it usually happened. Weeks or months at a time would go by with no word from her sister or niece at all, and then Sutton would call and announce that she was coming to visit her or that she needed help with something.
Something.
