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When the bells on the café door rang, Isobel’s gaze strayed over Varen’s safety-pin-studded shoulder. But her smile fell fast when she took in the pair who had just entered from the street.
Varen’s expression sobered with hers. Setting his coffee cup in its saucer, he twisted to look at the young girl and her mother.
Varen’s mother.
“Here to pick up the German chocolate,” Madeline said after approaching the counter. “You’re holding it under the name Alexander.”
Isobel drew in a sharp breath, recognizing Varen’s middle name.
As if sensing Varen’s penetrating gaze, the girl, who couldn’t have been much younger than Danny, turned her head to stare at him, blond braids flying.
“Veronica,” Madeline said, nudging the girl as the clerk disappeared into the back room. “It’s not polite to stare.”
Quickly Varen turned toward Isobel again, his face white.
Tense in her seat, Isobel switched her focus between the woman—who after accepting a white cake box from the returning clerk, took her receipt—and Varen, who, mouth slightly agape, lip ring glinting in the late-afternoon sun, gripped the edge of the table.
“Do you want me to—” Isobel asked in a small whisper, but she stopped when, shutting his eyes, Varen shook his head once.
“Thank you,” Madeline said then, ushering the girl ahead of her and leading her through the door.
The bells jangled a second time as the pair left, heading across the street.
Varen reopened his eyes and watched them the entire way, until they disappeared behind the tall brick walls girdling the condominiums.
Isobel sat silent, watching Varen intently, bracing herself for whatever his reaction would be.
“We could still catch them,” she whispered.
Varen looked away from the window and back to his mug. His brow knitted. He blinked slowly, jaw flexing. Then, at last, he spoke.
“There’s a beach,” he said, his voice half breath, “about an hour away. A cape, actually. Probably more rock than sand. And I know it’s cold, but do you want to go? Just to walk.” He nodded to the cake before finally looking up at her. “I’m finished. If . . . if you are.”
She tilted her head at him. “You mean you want to—”
“Make out at sunset?” he interrupted. “Yeah. I kind of do.”
Varen’s smile returned, though different from before. Sadder now, but . . . peaceful, as well. Satisfied, maybe.
“Weeell,” Isobel said. “In that case, yes, I do. And . . . yeah. I’m finished too.”
o;Do you want me to—” Isobel asked in a small whisper, but she stopped when, shutting his eyes, Varen shook his head once.
“Thank you,” Madeline said then, ushering the girl ahead of her and leading her through the door.
The bells jangled a second time as the pair left, heading across the street.
Varen reopened his eyes and watched them the entire way, until they disappeared behind the tall brick walls girdling the condominiums.
Isobel sat silent, watching Varen intently, bracing herself for whatever his reaction would be.
“We could still catch them,” she whispered.
Varen looked away from the window and back to his mug. His brow knitted. He blinked slowly, jaw flexing. Then, at last, he spoke.
“There’s a beach,” he said, his voice half breath, “about an hour away. A cape, actually. Probably more rock than sand. And I know it’s cold, but do you want to go? Just to walk.” He nodded to the cake before finally looking up at her. “I’m finished. If . . . if you are.”
She tilted her head at him. “You mean you want to—”
