“Got it.”
He left but not before giving her a wink so subtle she couldn’t quite tell if he was only squinting. She’d definitely tell Zoey it was a wink, though, just to liven things up a little.
Speaking of . . . She got out her laminated sign explaining the afternoon procedures and listing her cell number, grabbed her purse, and headed out for a few hours free of work and motherhood.
Zoey was her closest friend, though that wasn’t saying much since she was Lily’s only friend. And Zoey was close with everyone, throwing her arms and heart wide open to the world despite the kind of work she did. She’d just been born that way, apparently. When Lily had moved to Herriman at age seven, Zoey had marched right over from her house three doors down and introduced herself.
She’d been a bit busier since Lily had moved back with Jones and Everett, but they’d reconnected in fits and starts. Like everyone else in town, Zoey knew all about Jones’s crimes, but she didn’t know that he’d been in touch since. No one did.
When Lily spotted the café, she relaxed into the driver’s seat, letting go of the worst of her tension. The patio was open, and it had been a long and dreary winter. They could sit outside and imagine themselves somewhere more adventurous than a small-town deli that called itself a café. But she supposed the espresso machine gave them that right.
Before she’d even stepped fully from the car, she heard her name called from the patio and looked up to see Zoey waving both arms like an overenthusiastic parking guide. Lily scooted between two fake potted plants and gave her a big hug.
“Mm,” Zoey hummed, emphasizing her hug with sound effects. “You look great and ready for spring. How’s Everett?”
“Annoyingly independent but otherwise fine. How are the puppies?”
“Mind-numbingly needy. Kids these days! Let’s splurge and get cake for dessert. No arguments.”
“Like I’ve ever said no to cake.” She slapped the half-price coupon on the table. “And half your sandwich is on me, so you’re welcome.”
Thank God for Zoey. Lily wasn’t sure she would’ve had the heart to build this life without her. On the days she felt like she was trudging through bare survival, Zoey reminded her that she was building something sweeter and that so many others had survived worse.
“So,” Zoey started once they were settled, “what happened the other night?”
For one moment, she thought Zoey knew about Jones. That slight threat in the way he’d said that Everett was something Lily could give him. The additional threat of Mendelson and whatever new dirt he thought he’d dig up. But she didn’t talk to Zoey about things like that. She kept their relationship light.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her friend. It was that she didn’t trust anyone. How could she? Her judgment was atrocious. Her gut had failed her. She was truly her mother’s daughter, and she couldn’t risk bouncing from one disaster to another until she finally gave up and settled in the wreckage.
“Lily?” Zoey reached for her hand. “Did you run into trouble?”
She was asking about Amber and the drop at the bus station, not the other problems pressing down on Lily like gravity. “No, everything went fine. I just got spooked. I started thinking about putting my job on the line. I’m so close to leaving my past behind me.”
Zoey didn’t know about Jones getting in touch, but she sure knew the origin story. And when Lily spotted part of that story sitting on the other side of the patio, she gasped involuntarily. Zoey sat up straight and curled her hands into fists. “What’s wrong?” she demanded, head pivoting to identify the threat.
“It’s nothing,” Lily said stiffly. “Just Cheyenne.”
“Oh.” But she had already craned her neck around to look behind them, and of course, Cheyenne glanced toward their table at exactly that moment.
Lily forced herself to hold still until Cheyenne was the one who turned away, her mouth twisting a little in distaste. She couldn’t bear to look at Lily for very long.
They’d never had a heart-to-heart, so Lily couldn’t be sure, but she’d put together bits and pieces over the years. Apparently Cheyenne hadn’t known that Lily’s father was married when they’d first met. Lily suspected she didn’t like the blatant reminder of her transgressions. Because at some point she’d known and hadn’t cared, and she’d somehow failed to ever mention to her own children that they had a half sister somewhere.