22. Chapter 22
Erik
My phone rings as I pick up the traffic cones to clear the scene.
Cho.
I lower my hand holding the cones. It’s unusual to hear from him so often. My hand runs over my stubble, longer than I’m used to since I didn’t shave at Kylie’s place.
And for the first time, I’m not sure if I want to answer it. Yesterday and this morning were wonderful. I’m in a good mood for once. If I answer now, I will get my hopes up again, only to get my heart broken shortly after. I just know it.
“Hey, Cho.” Whenever I get called in for an accident on the highway, I expect the worst. Luckily, this time it was only a dented bumper and a shocked driver. He’s off to the hospital now, his car has been towed and I cleaned the pieces his car left behind in the road. “What’s up?”
“Hey, Erik.” He clears his throat, paper rustling. “I have a diner recommendation for you.”
“A diner recommendation?” I hear the innuendo in his voice but I’m not sure where he’s going with this.
“Yeah. You should absolutely drive there. Heard the eggs are divine.”
“Okay.” I pull out my notepad and pen. “Give me the address.”
Turns out the diner is only 45 minutes away from Wayward Hollow. Close enough of a driving distance to go there today.
“And I do think it would pay off to check it out urgently.”
“Got it. Thank you, buddy.”
“You’re so welcome. Let me know how you find the… eggs.”
“Will do. Have a good one.” I end the call, lower the phone, hand trembling, and take a deep breath.
I’m not an idiot. Obviously, he doesn’t want me to go there for eggs. But I’m scared to get my hopes up about what I will find there. Presumably, maybe, Lilith.
Bad mood one way or another, there’s no way I can wait until tomorrow. I have to see for myself if it’s her. Before I know it, I have Kylie’s number pulled up and press ‘call.’
“Hey!” She sounds like she’s smiling.
“Hey.” I mumble and rub the back of my neck nervously. “Kylie, I’m so sorry, but... I might have gotten a lead about Lilith. I don’t think I’m going to make it to Caleb’s this afternoon.”
“Oh.” One little word. But it’s enough for me to picture the way her smile slips off her face.
“Sure. That’s okay,” she stammers, and damned if it doesn’t send a knife right to my heart.
“I still want to see you today,” I quickly clarify and pick the remaining cones up. A car drives past me, dispersing the dry leaves in the road.
“I can come over to your place tonight and we can have dinner?” She offers, already sounding less tense.
“Yes,” I say before my brain even catches up. “Yes. I’d like that.”
“Good.” She sounds a cheerful again. “There’s also something I need to show you.”
“You do? Like what?”
“Guess you’ll have to find out tonight. Good luck, Erik. Fingers crossed it’s her.”
“Thank you, babe.”
The line goes completely silent. The nickname slipped out a lot more easily than it should have, considering we only just kissed for the first time yesterday. It didn’t feel wrong, though.
“See you later,” I press out and end the call before she can reply. For a moment, I stare into nothingness, before I burst into a chuckle and pinch the bridge of my nose. Damn, I’m out of practice.
The diner Cho sent me to is on the outskirts of a little town called Chestnut Falls.
I’ve been here once before, to visit a crisis seminar held by the local PD.
The town is nestled between a giant forest and a river, about as remote as Wayward Hollow and the diner is only a five-minute drive away from the highway.
The early afternoon sun peeks through heavy clouds and makes the wet ground of the diner’s parking lot glisten.
My heart beats in my throat, fingers clammy and white around the steering wheel. Quickly, I wipe them off on my jeans.
Could this really be it? My phone buzzes with a message from Cho.
Cho: If I were you, I’d go there before 5 p.m.
I check my watch. 4:30 p.m. No time to drown in self-pity or question if I can afford to get my hopes up and my heart broken again. One more deep breath, then I get out of the car and make my way inside.
Entering the diner is like going back in time 50 years. It has a black and white checkered floor, cherry-red seats, and the nostalgic vibe of the ’70s in the air.
“Welcome.” A small blonde woman shouts from behind the counter. “Take a seat, handsome. I’ll be right with you.”
“Thanks,” I mumble and slide into an unoccupied booth. Cho never specified who exactly I should be looking for. The booth on my far right is occupied by a family, but the mother is a redhead, and a natural-looking one at that. I squint, trying to see her better.
“Hey there.” A blue checkered dress uniform blocks my sight. “I’m Lily, your server today. What can I get you?”
“A coffee, please,” I press out, staring at the name tag on her apron. Question answered. This has to be the woman he wanted me to see.
“Coming right up.” Once she turns around can I breathe again.
Lily.
Only now she’s focusing elsewhere, do I dare look at her face. She’s got brown hair, and is about the right age. My breath catches in my throat, and I hide a cough behind my hand. She has a similar round face to the aged-up sketch I have of Lilith.
When she returns with my coffee, I take a closer look at her face. The same eye color. Freckles.
But no scar.
My shoulders sink in disappointment and emotions clog my throat. Fuck.
“Is there anything else I can get you?”
“No, that will be it.” I take a sip of my coffee. It’s good. Not as good as Caleb’s, but I’ve had worse.
“Are you sure? We’re famous for our apple pie.” I stare at her. She seems nice. And it’s not her fault she’s not who I’m looking for.
“Okay, sure,” I give in. I mean, I came all this way. A piece of apple pie to soothe my shattered hopes can’t hurt, right?
“Coming right up, sweetie.”
As soon as she turns around, I pull out my phone to let Cho know.
Erik: Not her.
Only seconds later, my phone buzzes with his answer.
Cho: Damn. I’m sorry, bro. I really thought we got her this time.
Erik: No worries, man. We’ll find her.
I put my phone on the table screen-down right as Lily returns to my table, balancing several plates.
“Here you go, sweetie.” She sets a smaller one on the table.
“Thank you.”
I take a bite and close my eyes. At least this an apple pie worthy of being famous for. But great pie one way or another, it doesn’t change the fact I drove all the way out here, only for any hope to shatter.
And I’m not sure how often I can glue it back together anymore.