Before I could say anything, Liza shoved a crumpled five-dollar bill at her. “Play some country. I miss hearing it.”
“Thanks!” Waylay snatched the bill out of Liza’s hand and headed for the jukebox.
“Why don’t you listen to country anymore?” I asked.
That same look she’d had when Waylay asked her about the photo came back. Wistful and sad. “My daughter was the one who played it. Had it on the radio morning, noon, and night. Taught the boys to line dance practically before they could walk.”
There was a lot of past tense in that sentence. Spontaneously, I reached out and squeezed her hand. Her focus came back to me, and she squeezed my hand back before pulling free.
“Speakin’ of family, my grandson sure has shown some interest in you.”
“Nash has been so helpful since I got to town,” I said.
“Not Nash, you ninny. Knox.”
“Knox?” I repeated, certain I’d heard her wrong.
“Big guy? Tattoos? Pissed off at the world?”
“He hasn’t shown interest, Liza. He’s shown disdain, disgust, and malice.” He’d also shared an aggressive announcement that his body found my body attractive, but the rest of him found the rest of me revolting.
She hooted. “I bet you’re the one.”
“The one what?”
“The one who’s gonna have him reconsidering this whole bachelor deal. Bet money you’re the first girl he dates from this town in twenty-plus years. And by dates, I mean—”
I held the menu up over my face. “I understand what you mean, but you’re very, very wrong.”
“He’s quite the catch,” she insisted. “And not just cause of the lottery money.”
I was 100 percent certain she was messing with me.
“Knox won the lottery?” I asked dryly.
“Eleven million. Couple of years back.”
I blinked. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“As a heart attack. And he wasn’t one of those buy-a-big-ass-mansion-and-a-fleet-of-foreign-cars winners. He’s even richer now than when he got that big check,” she said with pride.
The man’s boots were older than Waylay.
He lived on his grandmother’s property in a cabin.
I thought of Warner and his family, who definitely did not have $11 million, but acted as if they were the crustiest of the upper crust.
“But he’s just so…grumpy.”
Liza smirked. “Guess it just goes to show money can’t buy happiness.”
We were just digging into a large pepperoni and salad—well, technically I was the only one with salad on my plate—when the front door opened and in walked Sloane the librarian followed by a young girl.
Today, Sloane wore a long tie-dye skirt that skimmed her ankles and a fitted t-shirt with cuffed sleeves. She wore her hair down, creating a long, golden curtain that moved like the material of her skirt. The girl behind her was a chubby-cheeked cherub. She had dark skin, assessing brown eyes, and wore her hair in an adorable puff on top of her head.
“Hey, Sloane!” I greeted her with a wave.
The librarian’s red lips curved in a smile, and she jerked her head at the girl who followed. “Well, if it isn’t Liza, Naomi, and Waylay. Chloe, do you know Way?” Sloane asked.
The girl tapped a sparkly pink nailed finger to her chin. “We had B lunch together last year, didn’t we? You sat with Nina—the short one with black hair Nina, not the tall one with bad breath. She’s really nice, she just doesn’t do a good job with the brushing. I’m in Mrs. Felch’s class this year and I’m not happy about it ’cause everyone says she’s a mean old lady. I heard she’s even meaner ’cause she and her husband are talking about a divorce.”
I noticed that Waylay was staring at Chloe with wary interest.
“Chloe!” Sloane sounded both amused and embarrassed.
“What? I’m only repeating what I heard from several very good sources. Whose class are you in?” she asked Waylay.
“Mrs. Felch,” Waylay said.
“Sixth grade is gonna be awesome even if we do have mean old Mrs. Felch because we get to switch rooms and teachers for science, art, gym, and math. Plus we’ve got Nina and Beau and Willow in class with us,” Chloe plowed on. “Do you know what you’re wearing on the first day? I can’t decide between an all-pink ensemble or a pink-and-white ensemble.”
It was a lot of words to take in from such a small person.