Chapter 8 Ruth
eight
Ruth
The last mug clicks the dish rack, and I push it into the automatic washer with a deep breath.
With chairs flipped onto tables while the freshly mopped floor dries, I’m finally ready to close.
Outside, the snow continues but is easing up.
There’s a tad more visibility, and the snowplow cleaned the street about an hour ago, so I’m not nervous about getting home.
I sent Noah home a couple of hours ago, right after the hockey rush cleared out.
I love when he helps me, but I limit how much I use him because he has enough on his plate with school and hockey.
I turn off the lights, one by one, and just before the last light goes out, the door jingles. Without looking, I call out, “Sorry! We’re closed.”
“Not here to eat. I forgot my wallet,” a voice calls out, and I instantly freeze. I found a wallet.
Bill Baker’s wallet to be exact.
It was right next to my cash register where there was five hundred dollars in cash. “Oh, hey,” I say, softer now that I know it’s him. “I set it underneath the till, along with the cash you left me. It’s all back where it belongs, inside your wallet.”
He takes a step forward, brushing snow from his sleeves. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to trouble you.”
“No trouble,” I say, reaching for it. “I would have tried to call you, but it was nonstop all night, and besides, I didn’t have a number...”
He shrugs like it doesn’t matter, stepping closer. “It’s fine. I just didn’t want it sitting here all night.”
I hold it out and he takes it, our fingertips brush for a second, which gives me a pause as I ponder if he meant to do that.
“I really want you to have the money. I know you offered the drinks on the house, but you had great service, and I’m happy to pay for it.
It was a wonderful evening.” He slides the bills out of his wallet and tucks them behind the cash register with a stern look on his face, but a teasing gleam in his eye.
“Don’t make me hide this in your freezer somewhere where it will only get lost.”
I chuckle and decide to drop it. It’s a sweet gesture for him to pay. He can surely afford it, and I appreciate it. “Well, thank you.”
“The roads are terrible,” he says, tucking the wallet into his coat. “Do you have a long drive ahead of you?”
I lean back against the counter. “No, I don’t live far. Besides, it’s not the first time I’ve ridden out a storm here.”
“I guess it’s not the worst place. You won’t go hungry.”
“No.” I politely chuckle again.
“Well, thank you again for hosting everyone,” he adds, his voice quieter now. “I appreciate it.”
“It was my pleasure,” I say, feeling like we’ve already had this conversation earlier, but I go on. “I figured someone had to house them or they’d have frozen in that park.”
We linger as the silence stretches. Not uncomfortable exactly, but it doesn’t seem like he’s in a rush to leave.
Suddenly, I’m not in a hurry to leave either.
“Are you ready for another stack of pancakes?” I offer, immediately surprised at myself.
“Griddle’s off, but it doesn’t take long to heat up. ”
He smiles a little. “Tempting, but I just need my wallet, and you need to get home where it’s warm and safe.”
“Right,” I say, brushing my hands on my apron, though they’re already clean. “Of course.”
He shifts his weight, eyes still on me. “You know, I was watching your son help you tonight, and I have to say you raised a good kid.”
I nod, as Noah’s my favorite topic to talk about. “Well, I’m biased, but I think he’s a good one too. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
He pauses for a beat before saying, a little shy but clearly excited, “Hey, the storm’s supposed to stop tonight, and I was thinking about going for a drive to see that old bridge again before they tear it down. I’d like to get some photos of it. I was wondering if you’d want to ride along?”
I blink. He’s smiling very genuinely, not flirtatiously, but my stomach still twists.
I don’t date.
Not like I only go out on first dates.
Like I haven’t gone anywhere with anyone since Noah’s dad.
Two hearts died the day Noah’s dad passed, but only one actually stopped beating. I have Noah, and we’ve made a nice life together, despite all the immense heartaches. I have no desire to change anything.
But this doesn’t sound like a date.
It sounds like he’s trying to pay me back for my hospitality, which I don’t expect.
My eyes shift side to side as another thought pops in my head—or is this some sort of test?
Like he is trying to see if I’d create a conflict of interest for his team? My palms start to sweat just thinking about it. I don’t think it’s wise for me to hang out with him, considering he holds Noah’s fate in the palm of his hands.
But he’s still smiling.
Like this matters to him for a reason he hasn’t said yet. I hate to ever say no to people when they need help. Maybe there’s a reason he needs to run over there? Against my better judgment, I hear myself slur, “Suuuure.”
He beams as he takes a few steps backward toward the exit. “Great. I won’t hold you up any longer, because it’s late, but I’ll text you tomorrow once I make sure the roads are good.”
He starts to spin on his heel to walk away, but I blurt out, “Want my number?”
He shakes his head, grinning. “I can grab it from Noah’s file.”
And just like that, I’m reminded again, even though I didn’t exactly forget that this isn’t a good idea.
What am I getting into?
Before I can ask for further clarification, he’s waving a casual good night over his shoulder.
I stand there watching him go, a little breathless and a little terrified of what I’ve agreed to.
Anxiety bubbles in my gut, and my gaze slams back to the kitchen counter, where I have a bag of popcorn hidden. I’m going to need a snack while I think about it.
When I arrive home, the house is silent except for the low murmur of a sports commentator echoing from down the hall. I slip off my boots, brush snow from my coat, and pad down the hall toward Noah’s room. His door is slightly open. I pause outside, watching him for a moment.
He’s reclined on his bed, scrolling on his phone. His expression is focused. In moments like these, he looks older than he is. He’s so serious and grown-up. Where did the time go?
I don’t even realize I’ve sighed until he glances up. “Hey, Mom, were the roads okay?”
“Yeah.” I take a step into his room. “They plowed right after you left.”
He holds up his phone. “No word about Granite Ice yet. He never said when he’d get back to us. I’m assuming it takes a while, but I’m getting nervous.”
I swallow. “I saw Bill after you left”
Noah raises an eyebrow. “Bill Baker?”
“Yeah, he left his wallet at the diner and came back to grab it, and we spoke briefly,” I say quickly. I stop myself before I blurt out anything more.
Like he asked me to go somewhere.
Like I said yes.
I run a hand through my hair, trying to sort through the noise in my head.
Besides, he was probably nice since I returned his money to his wallet without stealing his credit cards and his identity. So many people would love to get their hands on Bill’s wallet.
That’s all.
He won’t text.
Noah tilts his head. “You look worried. Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine.” I force a smile. “I’m excited about your tryout, and I’m really proud of you.”
His eyes soften. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Say, you never said how the meeting with your math teacher went today.”
“It was cringe.” He sighs as he dramatically drops his back against his headboard. “But he said I can take a retest exam on Monday. He said he can’t drop my first grade, but we can average them together, and that should help bring my grade back over failing.”
“Wonderful.” I raise an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you be studying for that, then?”
He grins, sheepish as he drops his phone next to him on the bedspread. “I guess.”
I step back toward the hall. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Try not to spend all night watching highlight reels.”
“Can’t make any promises.”
I shake my head, smiling as I turn and call back, “Love you, and I’m headed for bed. I have to be back at the diner to open it.”
“Love you too,” he calls back.
And as I stroll toward my room, I can’t help but think about my date with Bill.
It’s not a date! But that doesn’t stop the flutter in my chest.