Chapter Twenty-Nine
Twenty-Nine
“For the record, I feel I’ve been tricked,” says Miguel.
“Tricked! You’re the one who suggested brunch!
” says Miriam, bumping her hip against his.
They’re standing side by side at the kitchen counter, arranging the feast they just spent the morning pulling together.
Miguel’s face is dusted with something—flour, maybe?
He won’t let me get close enough to sniff the individual ingredients, but the sweet, eggy smell makes me think he’s made French toast. He used to make it for Amelia, who always tossed me her crusts because she understood what an injustice it is to dine on the same thing indefinitely.
“I was under duress,” he grumbles.
“Yes, your evil younger sister, encouraging you to eat in the most terrifying way—with other people,” says Miriam, laughing. She wipes the powder off his cheek with her thumb. “This is just friends getting together for fun, remember?”
“Fun’s for young people like Ding-Dong. Not forty-two-year-old dinosaurs like me.”
“Hey, I represent that,” says Dane, appearing in the doorway. “And you don’t look a year over Paleolithic.”
Miguel startles. “If you continue to refuse to use the doorbell, Dane, I’m going to get you a shock collar.”
“It’s called a lock, chief. Maybe I’m not the ding-dong here,” says Dane. He turns to Miriam. “Hiya, Miriam—long time no see, but you look great. When’d you get in?”
“Last night, and not a moment too soon,” she says, pushing her curls off her face with her forearm.
“I’ll say.” Dane opens the cupboard to grab a mug. “Want coffee, Riles?” he says to Riley, who must have come in right behind him.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
“Me, too,” says Brenna, appearing behind her.
“On it,” says Dane.
“Thanks for having us over,” Brenna says to Miguel. “It’s nice to see you all outside of work.”
“You don’t mind coming by? I know you’ve been working a ton lately. Hanging out with your co-workers on your off day probably isn’t much of a break.”
“Miguel, you worry too much—I’m happy to be here. Besides, Natalie needs hours.”
“You sure she’s okay?” he asks.
“She’ll be fine. And if she’s not, she can call Riley,” says Dane, grinning.
Riley pretends to be offended. “I’m off the clock until tomorrow. It’s all you, Dane.”
“I’m not sure if you remember, but I’m Miguel’s sister,” Miriam says to Riley and Brenna. It’s the first time I’ve seen the two of them beside each other since…well, I can’t recall when. She extends the hand she just wiped on her apron to Riley first. “Miriam. We met…”
Riley nods, knowing Miriam doesn’t want to say “at the funeral” out loud. “I remember. It’s good to see you again.”
“You, too.”
“Nice to see you,” echoes Brenna, and Miriam smiles at her.
Dane hoists himself onto the counter next to where Miguel’s standing. “Your lady friend here yet?”
“Is your police escort here yet, or should I call them to tell them you’re waiting for your ride?”
Dane holds both hands up. “Just a question, chief! Just a question.”
Where are Fiona and Amelia Mae, anyway? I’ve been excited since I heard Miguel invite them over last night.
So excited, in fact, that I found myself roaming around the second floor half-asleep early this morning.
Fortunately, I didn’t rouse Miguel or Miriam or even the little yipper and went back to my bed when I realized what was happening.
I head to the living room to wait in front of the window.
A big black Labrador pees in our yard, then Raina jogs by.
A woman pushes a tiny dog in a stroller, even though I’ve seen that Chihuahua prancing past a million times and know for a fact that he doesn’t need a ride.
Finally, there’s Amelia Mae, practically dragging Fiona behind her as they walk up the street.
I start barking to herald their arrival, which sets off Walter, who comes scrambling over.
I swear if he pees next to me I’m going to carry him back to the dumpster myself.
Fiona comes to the front door, which seems a bit odd, but it does give Miguel a chance to greet her alone. He hugs her, then hands her Walter.
“I’m sorry we’re late—the rental place is even smaller than I thought, and they don’t have our car ready yet. Has this little guy been much trouble?” she asks, holding him up to admire him.
“Not at all, and I’m glad you came. It’s impossible to make a small brunch and have it be any good, so I might have cooked a little too much.
I hope you’re both hungry. And the coffee just finished brewing.
Of course, I have tea, too…” Miguel’s babbling like he’s just been hit on the head by a bunch of black walnuts.
He’s probably nervous to introduce her to Miriam.
“Let’s let them chat, Harry,” Amelia Mae whispers to me.
“It’s a miracle we made it over—Mom was scribbling in her notebook all morning, which is why we were late to get the rental car.
But between us, that’s a good thing, ’cause she only does that when she actually cares, and she hasn’t cared about anything other than me in way too long.
Still, she talked to Uncle Jon last night, and they were arguing again.
Something about cutting the tether, whatever that means.
That whole mess has really turned her upside down.
I don’t want to tell her I’m worried because she’s got enough to think about, but…
” She pushes her face into a smile. “At least I’m here now. ”
I want to hear more about what made Fiona not care, but Amelia Mae is already directing me to the kitchen.
“Hello, everyone!” she announces, giving a big wave. She turns to Miriam, who’s standing beside Dane at the counter, and says, “I’m Amelia Mae.”
Miriam freezes.
“Take it your brother didn’t tell you that the girl here shares a name with our Amelia,” Dane says in an uncharacteristically low voice.
She shakes her head. “No, he certainly did not. Seems like a big thing not to mention.”
“He’s got a lot on his mind these days, what with the bookstore’s budget issues and his new love and now being on puppy duty.” He plucks a berry out of a bowl and pops it into his mouth, then holds the bowl out to her. “Want one?”
“I’ll pass, but I’m going to need a second helping of what’s been on my brother’s mind.”
Dane’s eyes land on Fiona, who’s just appeared in the doorway with Miguel. “Unlike some, I’m an open book. Maybe we can grab a drink after my shift.”
Miriam raises an eyebrow at him. “I hope you’re not asking me out.”
“Since you told me no the last four times I asked, I wouldn’t dream of it. But I do know a good place to get a cold beverage this evening if you’re interested.”
Dane asked Miriam out? Repeatedly? This is news to me—though admittedly, I used to pay a lot less attention to everyone else because I was so busy focusing on Amelia. Still, I thought he was all about Riley.
Miguel directs Fiona over to Miriam. “Miri, esta es Fiona,” he says. “Fiona, this is my sister, Miriam.”
Miriam starts to extend her hand, but Fiona has already decided they’re going to hug and has wrapped her arms around her. “It’s so nice to meet you. Miguel has been the best host, and incredibly understanding about my brother’s crisis. I assume he told you about that.”
“Oh, yes.” Miriam’s curls bounce as she nods. “I’m glad my brother’s gotten a friend out of this debacle. I just hope Lakeside’s able to weather this.”
Someone who’d never heard her speak before might miss it, but there’s just the slightest threat to Miriam’s tone. Miguel shoots her a warning look. “Why don’t we eat? Please, pile your plates,” he tells everyone. “We’ve made way too much food.”
“Where’s the Lucky Charms?” Dane says, surveying the counter.
Fiona looks from Dane to Miguel quizzically.
“Chief here has a cereal jones that some would say borders on the obsessive,” Dane explains.
One of the corners of Fiona’s mouth tilts up. “Is that so?”
“It’s not a jones,” Miguel says. “Cereal’s just easier than cooking when it’s only me and Harold.”
“If I’d known, I would have picked up a few boxes on the way over,” teases Fiona.
“Then I would have eaten that, too. All breakfast’s good,” he says, inching closer to her.
“Best meal of the day,” she says, and now they smile at each other.
Amelia Mae’s loaded up a plate and has decided we’re eating in the living room, away from the adults and Walter, whom they’re passing around like a bread basket.
“Don’t tell your owner, but I got you a piece of French toast,” she says, tearing off part of a slice to feed to me. “Try not to swallow it all at once.”
That’s a tall ask—the toast is even better than I remembered, although I guess that’s what happens when you go without something for a while.
I gobble it down. Amelia’s busy spearing berries on her fork and dipping them in whipped cream, so I peek my head around the corner.
Riley, Dane, and Miriam are seated around the kitchen table, but I hear Fiona and Miguel in the hallway and belly-crawl in their direction to find out what they’re up to.
“I brought you something,” says Fiona. “Just a tiny little gift to thank you for the past few days.”
“Really? I got you something, too,” says Miguel. “One second.” He steps into the living room momentarily and grabs a book off the tall, built-in bookshelves.
“Stoner!” she exclaims, turning it over in her hands.
“It’s actually my copy, but I’ve read it plenty of times, so I’m happy for it to find a new home,” he says, watching her.
“I can’t wait to read it and tell you what I think,” she says, pressing it to her chest momentarily. My Amelia used to do that with books, too; I wish I could understand for myself what’s so magical about a bunch of bound, scribbled-upon paper that makes a person want to hug it.
Fiona slips the paperback into her bag and hands him another book that she’s just retrieved. “This is my favorite Laurie Colwin novel,” she tells him. “Personally, I think she does get her male characters right, but you be the judge.”