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BRIE:Enjoy!
I set my phone down. “You owe me,” I grumble.
Gabby laughs. “You mean, thank you?” She gives me back my nearly empty Tupperware. “This stuff is amazing, by the way. Way better than the frozen stuff Warren’s Grocery sells. Tell Rockwell to save me a piece.” She waves to me and leaves my classroom.
My phone buzzes again.
ROCKWELL:I fed your cat for you. I didn’t see any food, but I found a can of tuna in the cupboard and took care of it.
My cat?
I text back quickly.
BRIE:We don’t have a cat.
ROCKWELL:Oh, really? So, I shouldn’t have let her in?
BRIE:Uh, nope.
ROCKWELL:I’ll try to catch her.
BRIE:That would be a good idea.
It’s time to get my students from recess, so I pray Rockwell is better at catching cats than he is at judging who their owners are. And then I smile because maybe a cat chase is exactly what he needs to lighten up. Grumpy, aloof Rockwell doesn’t stand a chance of remembering his feelings for me.
Maybe it’s the fact he’s in my house, maybe it’s that he’s texting me, or maybe I’m a tad delusional, but my thoughts are turning dangerous. One in particular: If Rockwell liked me once before, isn’t there a possibility he could like me again? Sometimes being a romantic is an invitation for heartbreak. But also, being a romantic means the hope outweighs the logic.
Chapter 6
Rockwell
MomandIarehaving dinner tonight at Bob’s Grill to talk about why I’m in town. The last few days, I’ve been busy with work and haven’t seen her as much as I hoped to. I’ve sort of been avoiding her after she caught me with Brie, giving her time to forget it ever happened. I know it’s not realistic for me to hide out at Travis’s work or an empty duplex for another couple of weeks, so I agree to a public meeting.
It’s been ages since I’ve been to Bob’s, and it’s surprising when I walk in how little has changed. Depending on what side of the diner you sit in, you could be in the bakery. Patricia’s pies, despite the name, isn’t loved for her pies. But Patricia does make incredible chocolate croissants and a cherry turnover that melts in your mouth.
Everyone who recognizes me stops by with a friendly hello and welcome home. I cringe, waiting for the undertones to reveal how they really feel. For some reason, I thought everyone would hate me for walking away. I’m surprised. They actually seem eager to see me and hear about what I’m up to. I don’t know what to make of it.
Once the welcome committee settles down, Mom nudges me. “See, I told you they’ve missed you.”
I nod to placate her, and we find a table and seat ourselves. I lean over to try and look in the glass display of desserts on the other side of the room, but the paint chalk snowflakes mar my view. It’s not a problem. I don’t have to see them to taste them in my mind again. I’m dreaming about turnovers when the waitress comes to take my order for dinner.
I order automatically. “Bob’s Toast, please.” I realize a second later that Bob’s Toast, which is his signature Korean sandwich with egg, ham, cheese, and cabbage, might just be plain toast after all these years. It might not even be on the menu.
The waitress pens it down, so thankfully, there is still a perk for returning to Bearwood.
“I’ll take a salad,” Mom says. I’m pleased she’s eating healthier than she used to. When the waitress leaves, Mom captures my full attention. I quietly observe her. She hasn’t dyed her hair for a while, and her usually tidy medium-brown bob isn’t laying neatly like usual, and she has a line of gray at her part. She’s wearing a flowy dress, which I assume is her new standard since she’s still holding her left arm close to her stomach. I hate to stare at it because I know she’s self-conscious of her paralysis from her stroke this fall. Her arm, however, is the reason I’m here.
Mom needs to be close to specialists in the city, and she needs to live closer to me in case anything happens. A woman at her age with only one usable arm needs help. My sister, Morgan, isn’t going to volunteer. She can barely take care of herself and doesn’t seem to take much interest in the family. Caring for Mom is up to me.
“I am so happy you’ve come home, Rock.”
I smile at her, even though my visit isn’t what she’s hoping for. “I know it’s harder for you to travel now, so I came to you this time.”
“I can travel fine.” Mom’s tight jaw appears as stubborn as my own.
“In Bearwood you can, but to the city is different. It’s why I want you to move there. I can take care of you easier if you’re with me.”
“Why don’t we talk about Brie?” She’s evading me again. I’m not taking no for an answer anymore. It’s why I traveled all this way.
