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The moment Tara walked into Jenny’s with Frankie and Owen by her side, every other patron stopped talking, holding their forks or their morning coffee mid-air as they openly stared at them.
She already felt edgy after the little tiff with Owen about shopping for new clothes. Walking into the town’s epicenter of busybodies warped her right back into the time everyone eyed her suspiciously wherever she went just because of who her parents were.
Owen held still in the middle of the restaurant and said, “Good morning, everyone. Since we already have your undivided attention I would like to introduce you all to my daughter: the lovely Miss Frankie Houston. Some of you probably still remember her mother Tara and I’m sure I can count on you to make the girls feel welcomed here, right?”
Then there was silence. Awful silence as people kept staring.
Tara wondered if Owen knew what the hell he was doing in making such an announcement in the middle of Jenny’s. He didn’t know the town like she did. His family was in a league of their own while Tara had been an outcast from the day she’d arrived in this stinking town.
A kid sitting in one of the booths in the back slurped whatever his drink was through his straw, breaking somewhat of the silence.
“Mommy?” Frankie grabbed Tara’s hand and squeezed.
Thank goodness Jenny walked in and stopped dead in her tracks next to them. She dropped some of the paper bags she carried, so now everyone was looking at Jenny.
“I can’t believe it! Tara? Is it really you?” Jenny asked and gave her a side-hug while holding on to some of her bags.
Jenny had been a lifesaver in the true sense of the word for scaring away Eric Houston after he showed up out of the blue at the apartment above Jenny’s where Tara and her mother had lived six years ago.
Tara had never properly thanked Jenny for being so dauntless that night and hoped she understood her reasons for abruptly leaving town.
“Hi, Jenny…”
All doubt about Jenny being mad at her disappeared when Jenny hugged her tight and said, “I have to bring these bags into the kitchen, but please stay for a bit so we can catch up…and don’t make me come and find you at Owen’s if you sneak out, anyway.”
Tara smiled. “Okay, I’ll stay for a while.”
Jenny winked before she accepted the bags that Owen had picked up from the floor. With Jenny walking into the kitchen, Tara felt the unease coming back in tenfold. Crowds made her nervous, they always did—definitely the crowd in this little town.
Tara knew she needed to at least make an effort for Frankie’s sake, so she squared her shoulders and waved awkwardly before she said, “Hi, everyone. Good to see you again.”
Tara glanced around, making eye contact with all the familiar faces; people she’d gone to school with, people she had hung out with when she’d been together with Owen. But almost everyone looked away or openly stared without greeting her.
An unknown woman stood from her seat in the back and walked over with a warm and most welcoming smile. “Hi, Tara and Frankie! I’m Caitlin, Adam’s wife. Would you like to join me? I have a big table in the back where I sit all alone...”
“Awesome, Cait. Is my brother already out on the slopes again?” Owen asked while he hugged her.
Tara and Frankie followed them to the booth in the back while Caitlin said, “Yeah, you know how he gets. That first snowfall of the season at sunrise in Arapahoe Basin called out to him.”
“Did Chloe and Damian go along with him?” Owen asked.
“Sure did.”
Tara remembered Chloe being the fastest down the slopes on her snowboard, winning championship after championship on the Parallel Giant Slalom.
Caitlin scooted over to make room for Tara since Owen and Frankie got into the booth on the opposite side. Tara thought she saw Caitlin’s belly protruding, but since she’d just met the woman, she wouldn’t dare ask her about it.
“Can I have what she’s having?” Frankie asked Owen while pointing to Caitlin’s plate stacked with pancakes.
Owen chuckled as he stretched out his arm, resting it on the back of the booth behind Frankie’s bouncy curls. “You can have whatever you like.”
Since Frankie took everything literally and would pick the most sugary, least nutritious she could find on the menu, Tara said, “Let’s pick something yummy like the oatmeal with—”
Owen raised a brow. “Are you serious? Oatmeal?”
Tara leaned forward on her elbows. “Yes. Oats and oatmeal have many benefits for your health.”
“Why can’t she have pancakes?” Owen asked, the irritation clear in his voice.
