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Alex and I take seats at the bar at the back of the retro diner, and I wave at Grant, the chef. He’s been working at the Heartstopper since I was a kid, and he gives me his usual gap-toothed grin.
The Heartstopper is only just starting to fill up for lunch, and I spot a couple of the regulars from around town. There are unfamiliar faces too—tourists who’ve come for the sun and the beach. Timmy Schafer from the tiny video game store around the corner stops by to say hi, as do Rod and Tilly, and Moira from the cake shop. Every one of them is happy that I’m back in town, and even happier to see Alex, if the huge smiles they throw our way are any indication.
Alex sucks down her milkshake, spying on the TV overhead that’s playing a rerun of a basketball game.
Marci finishes topping up someone’s coffee and returns with our orders in little baskets with checked paper. “So,” she says, casting a quick glance in Alex’s direction, “how are things?”
She’s talking about Cash. Because of course she’s talking about Cash.
“Good,” I say.
Marci’s eyebrows spike upward. “Good?”
“Good.”
“How good?”
“I’ll text you.”
“That good?” Marci asks.
Alex frowns, looking at her and then at me. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” we say in unison.
Marci clears her throat. “Do you have a night off any time soon?” she asks, and I’m so grateful she changed the subject. Alex is eleven, not five.
“Friday,” I say.
“Awesome. There’s a beach party over at Longhorn’s. Belle, Hannah, and I were thinking about going. You’ve got to come.”
“I don’t know.” I’d much rather curl up with a spicy book. But it’s probably a good idea since Cash will be home and Alex is going to sleep over at Ganny’s.
“It’ll be fun. I’ll text you the…” Marci’s eyes widen as she looks at a point over my shoulder.
I turn.
Cash stands just inside the diner, holding two sunflowers. He locks gazes with me before walking across the diner, and every eye is on him except Alex’s. Whispers start up, and I catch hints of phrases.
“Isn’t that—?”
“The Cash Taylor?” says one of the tourists who recognizes the country music star Cash. The regulars watch because they love fresh gossip.
Cash stops in front of me. “Thought I’d join you ladies for lunch,” he grumbles.
“Dad!” Alex has only just noticed him. She hugs him and he hands her a sunflower. “Thanks, Dad!” She tries to smell it and pokes her nose.
“Careful,” he says, shifting the flower back.
“Weren’t you busy renovating?” I ask.
“It’s lunch,” Cash replies simply with a shrug.
My heart pounds so hard, I’m sure everyone must hear it. Cash hasn’t joined us for lunch in the few days I’ve been working for him.
Cash turns to me. “An apology,” he says, and hands me the other sunflower.
Oh my God.
