Chapter 33
Riley
I'm staring up at the ceiling, wondering if it's possible for a back to break just by sleeping on a horrible sofa.
Sage warned me, but I figured the couch was better than what I could possibly be facing at home.
I think a firing squad might've done less damage to my body than what I'm experiencing right now.
I turn my head, wincing, when I sense Sage coming down the hallway.
"Who calls this early in the morning?" I ask when she comes into my line of sight.
"It was a... umm... a telemarketer."
If my head were in a better space, I'd challenge the lie, but I just don't have it in me. I spent all night tossing and turning. My inability to sleep has more to do with the thoughts I can't stop from running through my head than the uncomfortable sofa.
"Do you need a ride to the hospital?" she asks with very little humor in her tone.
"I might," I mutter, wincing when I try to reposition myself to sit. "Jesus, I feel eighty."
"It'll take a week before you work the kinks out, and if you stay again tonight, you'll probably have permanent damage."
"If you want me gone, just say that," I whisper with a chuckle.
"You're more than welcome to stay," she offers as she walks toward her kitchen. "But I'd line up your wheelchair before you lie back down this evening. Coffee?"
"A gallon if you can spare it," I answer as I stand, aches running over every inch of my body as I stand and stretch, cautious of the low ceiling as I lift my arms over my head.
I join her at the tiny kitchenette table once I've done enough moves to make a Pilates instructor proud .
"What are your plans for today?" she asks as she passes the cream for the coffee.
"I don't really have any," I confess. "I may just curl back up on the sofa and watch daytime TV like I did when I was sick as a kid."
"Maybe a shower and a brush can be tossed in there?"
I laugh at the scrunch of her nose. "I don't stink."
"But you will eventually. Just looking out for you, friend."
I lift my cup of coffee to my lips, wishing that I wasn't such a coward because I'm pretty sure this is decaf, and I need more than my normal intake of caffeine to survive the day after the night I had.
Silence swarms around us, and normally, it would be no big deal to sit with Sage and not have a full-on conversation, but today feels different. I've been unable to silence the voices in my head, and they're on the verge of driving me a little insane, honestly.
"What do you think about what Adalynn, Madison, and Claire said this past weekend," I say after fighting the questions in my mind and losing.
"Which part?"
"The whole family and happily ever after."
"I think that's what some people strive for."
"But not everyone? Not you?"
She shrugs. "I've never discounted the chance that I might find someone to treasure and love the rest of my life, but I've never made it a part of who I am."
"Right."
"I mean, I can see the value in having that, but I've always been okay with being alone. I read a lot, and that's not something I feel like I want to change at this point in my life, and men are needy. They want attention, conversation, and stuff like that. I don't think I have the energy to give to a man, not if it means changing who I am."
"Sex is great," I remind her.
"Hmm," she says as if trying to pull some very distant memories to the forefront of her mind. "I can't recall."
I chuckle when she smiles. "I can tell you that there isn't a book that compares to the time I've spent with Mac."
"Then maybe stop avoiding him and go do the sex things," she suggests after another sip of her coffee.
"My life is such a mess right now."
"Because of Mac?"
I shake my head. "If anything, he's been like a light after months of darkness. I think I may have to sell the house to stay afloat."
"That seems like a last resort sort of thing."
"It is," I confess. "I don't see any other way."
"But where will you go? To the duplexes in town? Is there availability?"
"I haven't thought it through that far yet. I just know that I don't want to give up on my dream."
"That I understand. Maybe your luck will turn," she says, always the one to try and lift me up when I'm down.
"I don't think there's any luck left for me in Lindell."
"Now that," she says with a frown, pointing at me. "That's a defeatist attitude, and we don't allow that around here.Wouldn't you be sad about leaving your family home?"
"Do you remember my parents?" I ask with a quick shake of my head. "They're great grandparents to my brother's kids now, but they were sort of absent in our lives when we were growing up. They spent more time driving out of town for work than with us."
"How would they feel about you selling the house?"
I shake my head again. "I don't know that they'd even care. They didn't really have a connection to it either."
"I think you need to sit on it for a while or, at minimum, talk with Mac. I don't know that making decisions while you're being pulled in so many directions is the best thing to do."
I know where she's coming from, but I can't let whatever mess I've created with a man in town keep me from trying to move forward with my life and my career.
"Can I make a suggestion?"
I look up at her. "Will our friendship survive it?"
I'm only teasing, but doubt creases on her forehead as she pauses.
"Have you considered shifting gears in the business?"
I tilt my head. "What do you mean? I don't want to change my menu."
"I'm not saying change your menu, but maybe go back to basics."
I narrow my eyes. "Have you been talking to Mac?"
"What?" she snaps a little too quickly, raising my suspicions even higher.
"He suggested the same thing. Said to cook the things from my grandmother's cookbook."
"Might not be a bad idea, but that's not what I mean by basics. This is Lindell, a small town where not much happens. Maybe trying to keep a business alive with catering isn't the right direction. Have you considered pickup-and-go meals? Like offering a to-go dinner for families having to come in from the city. They wouldn't have to cook, but it's not some fast food they grabbed out on the highway. You said yourself, you saw less of your parents because they were always traveling. I'm going out on a limb here, but you either had takeout or your mom came in and spent another hour in the kitchen making dinner, right?"
"True," I mutter.
"Then consider it. People still get home-cooked meals and that is in line with the family values people in Lindell are always trying to protect. Hell, I bet the guys on Mac's crew would buy something every damn day. They're all bachelors who spend most of their paychecks down at the diner anyway."
"It's sounds good in theory, but—"
"You’re already rejecting the idea," Sage mutters, disappointment lacing her tone.
"You're forgetting that one, I can't sell food out of my kitchen. The state cottage laws don't allow for that, and two—"
"You could talk to Madison. I bet she'd trade. A meal for use of her kitchen. Her kitchen has been rated commercial because of the house and its use with events."
I pause, my heart starting to race. "And she'd let me use it in exchange for what? Just dinner?"
"So the woman doesn't have to cook," Sage says quickly, and I can tell she noticed the excitement in my tone and is feeding off of it. "The woman is about to have a baby, and she's already got the twins. You making dinner would be a godsend. Honestly, I think she'd let you without dinner if you just asked. She's a really nice lady."
"I know she is, but you're forgetting about the town clause. Selling to-go, home-cooked meals are in direct violation of the town clause. Ruth would fight it, especially if she's going to lose business because of it."
She frowns when I do, and just like that, both of our bubbles are popped.
It wouldn't be my plan to make Ruth go out of business. I'm not egotistical enough to think I could. Going to the diner in town is just as much about socializing and gossiping as it is about eating, and I don't see that changing any time soon, despite what I may have to offer.
"Well, maybe go ask her. I don't think it would hurt, and if she surprises us and agrees, and you're not comfortable asking such a big favor from Madison, any of the church kitchens in town are also rated commercials, so you have options." She stands from the table, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze before going to the sink. "I'm going to get ready for work, but please just give it some thought. Let them tell you no instead of just making assumptions about what you think they will say to you."
When she walks away, I get the very distinct feeling that she's talking about every situation in my life, not just the issue with Ruth and the no-compete clause that the town has.