“We’ll see,” I tell Mari.
She only hums at this. “You think he’s still out there? I need to open for lunch. He seems like the persistent type.”
I scoff. “Not as persistent as you’d think.”
Pat is a regular old Harry Houdini, slipping out of relationships like a pair of shiny handcuffs. He left me easily enough. Then he had a quickie Vegas marriage （which ended almost as fast） and a string of very public relationships and breakups until his career-ending injury. Since then, he’s been almost a ghost online—NOT that I have online alerts set up for his name or anything—but I think I’ve got a pretty good read on his character.
Mari tilts her head. “I can’t decide if you’re more afraid he’ll come after you, or afraid he won’t.”
You and me, both.
I DO want Pat to come after me, if only so I can say no to his stupid, handsome face. Yet there is a voice inside me growing louder that doesn’t want to say no at all. For years, I allowed myself to daydream about Pat coming to find me, apologizing and declaring his undying love for me.
And now, here he is. Just an hour after I joked about finding a husband on the side of the road. Not that Pat is husband material in ANY universe, but it feels almost like I conjured him out of thin air. It’s way too coincidental that he was right here in Mari’s diner at the precise moment I came to pick up Jo.
“Any update on Jo’s situation?” Mari asks.
Great—from one subject I don’t want to talk about to another.
I shrug. “The hearing is in a few weeks. Ashlee will do her best.”
But it looks pretty bleak.
Mari touches my arm. “You know I’m happy to help whenever you need me. You aren’t alone.”
I nod, the emotion swelling too thickly in my throat to allow a response. Normally, Val is the one with enough emotions for the whole town of Sheet Cake. Happy, sad, angry, enthusiastic—whatever Val feels, she feels it big. Today, apparently, I’m the one with all the feelings.
The thing is—I feel alone, because I am alone.
There is support all around me, but it feels just out of reach, even with Mari standing right here offering. Mari was my mama’s best friend—or, is my mom’s best friend. It’s really hard to know sometimes how to discuss my mama’s relationships with her dementia—but Mari isn’t a replacement for my mama.
“Thank you.” That’s about all I can get out right now. “Don’t tell Val about this, okay? She’ll tell Winnie, and I’d rather tell them both myself.”
“By tonight?” Mari asks.
I want to groan but manage to hold it back. With all the events of the morning, I haven’t even thought about the LLLS meeting tonight.
“Sure.”
I’ll try to tell Winnie and Val before the meeting. And if not, there’s always tomorrow. Or next week. I can only hope news of Pat and Tank didn’t hit Neighborly yet. Thankfully, the diner was empty, and Big Mo is the last person who would say a word.
Mari boops me on the nose. And I let her, because it’s Mari, and she’s the absolute best. Even when her kindness makes me more emotionally melty than I want to be. If I could, I would keep my emotions like a cinder block—firm, cool, and completely unyielding.
Mari’s eyes narrow on me again. “I see that look on your face. Why don’t you—”
“Whatever you’re going to say, I don’t want to hear it. Not today.”
Mari chuckles as Jo’s feet begin pounding down the stairs. “Are you sure? I was going to say, why don’t you have a taco? They cure many of life’s problems.”