Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Replacing tables is such a good change, though.”
“You’re telling me,” she said. “They also refuse to put a single new item on the menu. After six weeks they finally let Thomas put cinnamon rolls on it.”
“Do you guys still have liver and onions on the menu?”
She grimaced. “Sure do.”
I nodded. “Can’t imagine that sells very much.”
“There is one man who orders it,” Danielle said pointedly. “Once a month. And even he says it’s too salty.”
“It would be funny if it wasn’t sad,” I said. “I’ll try to talk to your parents again, too.”
Ori and Dani’s parents’ diner wasn’t in danger of closing yet, but it had been in need of some help over the past few years. I’d always felt more at home with Rob and Patty than I was with my own parents, and I wanted to help.
They were good people, and I’d always needed more good people in my life.
Dani lifted an eyebrow at me. “You’re always too nice to my parents, too,” she said. “Don’t worry. Ori will get way too real with them, I’m sure, and maybe something will actually change.”
She was damn right about that.
“Want to take bets on how long it takes for Ori’s filter to drop around them?” I asked.
Danielle laughed, leaning on the bar with her elbows. “I’d say my brother will be back in the diner for less than two hours before he’s mouthing off.”
“Two?” I said. “I give it an hour. He gives opinions like it’s his job.”
“Remember that time in school when he told Principal Daniels that his tie looked like a dog threw up on it?”
I snorted. “Ori actually thought he was trying to help the man with his style. Bless his fuckin’ heart.”
“Only Ori,” Danielle said. “That got him two weeks of detention, I think.”
“Only Ori, indeed,” I said. “He’ll be blunt with your parents.”
“Having him back might actually be good,” Danielle agreed.
“Maybe.”
She was silent for a moment. “How… how was it with him, today?”
I hated hearing how hesitant she was even asking about Ori. My heart felt like it was being slowly wrung out.
I always wanted everyone to think that things between me and Ori were fine.
I wanted them to think that not much had changed.
And that just like back in the day, we fought sometimes, but we were best friends until the end.
But Dani had seen how the last handful of years had been, ever since Ori ended up in Los Angeles. We talked less and less on the phone. When Ori visited each Christmas, we had dinner together and caught up, but nothing was like it used to be.
But I hadn’t fucking given up.
There was so much I wanted to tell him. Things I wanted to say. Things I didn’t even know how to bring up with him, but—how did I get to that point with him now?
How could I tell him some of the things that had happened this past year?
I set my jaw, then took a deep breath and relaxed.
“It was fine,” I said. “We’re going to be fine.”
“Did he seem mad to be back in town?”
Yes.
He practically looked like he was walking into a jail cell.
“He was okay,” I told her, knowing it was nearly a complete lie. “Ori isn’t, uh, dwelling on the past too much. He’ll do well in Bestens now that he’s older.”
Lie, lie, lie.
“Shit. I’ve got to get out of here,” Danielle said, standing up and throwing on her sweater. “Mom’s going to kill me if I’m not back in time for her bedtime.”
“Olivia’s bedtime is at ten o’clock?”
Danielle snorted. “Not Olivia’s. Mom’s. I guess both of them sleep like babies, though, despite the fact that only Olivia is an actual baby.”
I stood up to give her a hug. “See you soon. Good luck Sunday.”
After Dani left, I ordered another citrus IPA. I settled in, seeing if I could muster the energy to meet a cute girl tonight. Kane was behind the bar counting cash in one of the registers, and Max came through again with a basket of limes ready to slice. He looked up at me, leaning over the bar like he was about to give me a secret tip.
“It happens with the front doors, too,” Max said. “Randomly opening, just a little. It’s got to be the ghost cat going in and out—”
“Max, stuff it,” Kane said from the register, not even looking up from his task.
If Max was a dreamer, Kane was a realist.
Max glanced up toward the doors, then did a double take. “Look. Holy shit, it’s doing it right now.”
Even Kane looked over toward the front doors of the bar. I turned to look, and sure enough, one of the front doors had opened slightly and then closed again.
“I need to post this online,” Max said, pulling his phone out to take a video.