Page 89 of The Last Thing You Said

“What’s up?” I ask. “Do you need me to work or something?”

She frowns. “That’s what you automatically think, isn’t it?”

I shrug. “Well. Yes. I mean, isn’t that what you usually want?”

She nods. “I’m sorry for that. And I do have a favor to ask, but that can wait.”

Joellen sets a glass of water in front of me. “What can I get you girls?” she asks.

Mom shakes her head. “I’m fine. Luce? Pie?”

I haven’t eaten much today besides the banana and a cookie with Jane and Tom, but the combination of Advil and sunshine and Hannah seems to have worked. My stomach growls.

“Wild rice burger, pub style, onion rings. And a Coke. And a slice of lemon meringue.”

My mom raises her eyebrows at me. “You must be feeling better.”

I shrug. “Yes and no. I suppose Dad filled you in?”

“Yes.”

“Is that why I’m here? So you can lecture me? Trust me, Dad’s was sufficient.”

I don’t expect her to laugh, but she does. “I’m sure it was.”

“So what, then?”

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean that it’s been a rough year for you, and you’ve been so distant this summer, and I just want to make sure that everything’s okay with you.”

My mouth drops open. I can’t help it. There’s so much I could tell her, but she continues before I can say a word.

“I know it’s been a lot different around home now that I’m running this place. And with Clayton at school. Your dad and I have had to figure out a lot of things financially, and it hasn’t been easy.”

“I know.”

“I appreciate everything you do to help out around the house, Lucy, and here, too. You’re one of my best servers.”

“I am?”

“Yes. People love you. You work so well under pressure, you’re never ruffled when it gets busy, and you treat everyone like your guest. I’m proud of you. I know I don’t tell you that often enough.”

“Wow. I mean, thanks.”

She laughs, then smiles sadly. “Losing Trixie was hard on us, too, Luce. It’s hard to see someone close to you lose a child. It was easier for me to throw myself into the restaurant. But then this place burned, and I realized that you can rebuild a restaurant, start again. Other losses are . . . irreplaceable. When Shay asked me how you were doing with the anniversary coming up, and I couldn’t answer her, I felt terrible.”

This is a lot to take in. “Shay?”

“Yes.” She takes a sip of coffee. “Simon told her about Trixie and the anniversary, and she asked me how you were doing with it. I had no answer. Luce, I’m so sorry.”

When I don’t say anything, she continues. “It’s okay to be sad, Lucy. It’s okay to miss her. I hope you know that your dad and I are here for you if you need us.”

It’s nice to hear her say this after some of the conversations we’ve had this summer. I nod. “I know.”

Joellen sets my food down and laughs as I dig into the pie first.