Page 33 of Finding Yesterday
“Sure. If the dough is smooth, the cornbread will be too crumbly.”
He leans on the counter. “I meant talk about what just made you sad.” He juts his jaw. “Your face. It changed.”
His words make something flutter in my stomach. Maybe it’s because Jack seems to notice things about me no one ever has. Not my family, not Hudson. I wrap the cornbread dough into a ball before gently flipping it. “I might like a tattoo. I just don’t want to have to explain it to people.”
“You don’t have to explain it.” The corners of his mouth lift, and he meets my gaze, a teasing flicker in his eye.
“Right.” I laugh. “Like what you just did.”
He shrugs but doesn’t answer.
Which, of course, is his answer. And now I’m wondering what the blue flowers mean, two of them, droplets of water on a few of the petals.
“Would it be a tattoo for your mom?” he asks.
And just like that, we’re back on me. But I’m not going to share if he doesn’t. “Nah. Just something cool.”
When we lock gazes, an unspoken understanding passes between us.
No one knows why Mama and Jack’s grandma went into the old ruby mine that day, but most have come to the conclusion that they’d stumbled across it while blackberry picking. Curiosity getting the best of them or wanting to find a ruby, they went inside.
At least, that’s what the townspeople say. I don’t believe it. They never found any baskets of berries, nor Mama’s or Hannah’s purses for that matter. Mama loved learning the history of this town, and she would’ve wanted to understand what was down in that mine, if any clues of the past were left in there.
I’ve researched the accident, and according to the archived news articles, nothing was ever found. I think Mama and Hannah knew exactly what they were doing, but I’ll never know for sure.
Since the mine collapsed that day, no one will.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
MYRTS IS THEonly bar in town with live music. It’s not much to look at, a square cement building and a gravel parking lot, but it’stheplace where the town gets together for a good time. I’m here tonight to watch my brother play the guitar.
After I walk in, my Uncle Ozzie yells, “Claire!” from behind the counter. He tends bar here a few nights a week, and I’m always glad to come when he’s on shift.
“Hey, Uncle Ozzie! I’ve missed you. You’ve been busy at the vineyard.” I approach the counter, grinning. Forever red-cheeked and smiling, Ozzie makes everyone feel right at home. I take a seat at the stool. “So, how’s my favorite uncle?”
“Aww, you’re making me blush,” he replies, already pouring me the dark beer on tap. He knows me so well. “Oh, wait, I’m your only uncle.”
“You got me there.” I take a seat on the barstool. He’s Daddy’s one brother, and Mama was an only child.
My phone buzzes, and I check it. It’s a reminder from my calendar that this weekend is the annual chili and beer festival in Buckhead. There’s going to be a lot of prizes and publicity there.
My mind whirls as I think about what I can do to get there on such short notice. I need to start networking with investors, and I still have my hard-earned vegetarian chili recipe I can use. Luckily, it hadn’t been added to the menu at Tangz before I left.
Nate arrives, and as usual, he has his guitar strapped over his shoulder. He comes up and rubs his knuckles over my hair. “Chicken Little.”
“Knock it off, Nate.” I bat his fist away. “I’m too old for noogies.”
“You’ll never be too old for noogies!” He pulls me into a bear hug. “And I love having my baby sister in town.”
I return the hug, but then he won’t let me pull away. “Let me go, Moon Pie.”
“Not until you promise to get on stage and play the fiddle.” He squeezes harder.
“Not a chance.” I fight to wiggle out of his hug. I used to play when I was a kid, but I was terrible at it and still am. “I said let me go, Nate.” When he doesn’t, I give him a Vulcan-style ear twisting pinch that’s been known to bring him to his knees.
“Ouch, crap, okay, Claire.” He tries to get away, but I’ve got a tight grip. “I surrender!”
“There it is.” I let go, and Nate shakes his head like a dog.
