“You’dstarve, huh?” She hugged my arm tighter against her and treated me to hersmile, and I felt a sliver of affection poke through my humiliation.
“Iwouldn’tstarve,” I insisted, glowering down at Birdy. “I’m capable ofusing a microwave, you know.”
Birdywaved her hands, dismissing my comment as unimportant. “B., I can tell youfound a good one here. She’s absolutely stunning, and thatsmile!” Shepaused to take a hand from each of us in hers, squeezing tightly as though Ihad just burst through the metallic doors with the announcement of ourengagement. “I’m just … I’m so happy, I could cry—Oh! But I won’t, I won’t,don’t worry. I just … Oh God, I can’t wait to call your mother …” She turned,letting the excitement in her voice trail off as she hurried to grab a couplemenus from the rack, and walked ahead of us down the aisle of booths.
“Doeseverybodyknow you?” Holly asked in a whisper.
Ileaned down to whisper in her ear. “She and my mom go way back. She actuallyused to babysit me back in the day, and—Jesus.” I cupped a hand over mymouth, lost for words. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t think she’d react likethat.”
Iexpected her to look up at me with a panicked expression, but I was relieved tofind her grinning. “No, it’s fine. I actually think it’s sweet.” She tightenedher grip on my arm once again, and my heart swelled against the skeletalconfines of my chest. “I can play along. I mean, I wouldn’t want to disappointyourmom.”
Wemet with Birdy at my usual spot, hidden behind a wall of frosted glass bricks.Unhooking her arm from mine, Holly excused herself, but before leaving for theladies’ room, she craned her neck and stood on her toes to kiss me on thecheek. My breath was instantly entrapped in my lungs, and I closed my eyes atthe sensation of having her lips touch my skin again.
“I’llbe right back,” she said softly, and walked away in the direction of Birdy’sfinger.
Myeyes followed every step she took as I sat down into my usual seat, entrancedby the steady but fluid rock of her hips, barely visible beneath the length ofmy jacket. The exuberant woman leaned close to me. She was absolutely besideherself with glee and the ruby red grin didn’t hide that fact one bit. Icringed to imagine the phone call she would be having with my poor mother. Icringed again at the thought of having to tell the hopeful woman it was all aruse.
“So,you love her, huh?” Birdy blurted out.
Myheart might have stopped at her question; I couldn’t be sure because in thatmoment, my entire body had seemed to come to a functioning strike. I held mybreath, my body stiffened, and the only sign of life that remained was theperspiration that collected along my brow.
Ifmy mother’s old friend could hear the secrets of my heart, how was I supposedto keep Holly from listening?
Iremained still, as if I could cease to exist, but instead of taking the hintand walking away to busy herself with another customer, Birdy cocked her headwith a knowing smile and squeezed my shoulder. The expression took me back towhen I was a child, sitting in her living room while she and my mom visited; Iwould sit on the floor, writing stories in composition notebooks for hours.When Birdy would ask if I wanted a snack, I’d decline the offer, too polite tobeg for a slice of pie. And she’d give me that look, seeing through the liestold by a well-mannered kid, and off she’d go to fetch me a piece of her latestbaking adventure.
Sheshifted her weight, jutting a hip to the side in a position of attitude. “Doesshe know?”
Withnowhere to hide, I raked a hand through my hair and shook my head. “No,” I saiddryly, but I softened immediately, letting myself relax into the childishcomfort I felt in her presence. “I’m really not sure how I feel about her.”
Shenodded knowingly. “I know, hon. It’s tough. You know, admitting you could feelthat way about someone new.”
Mymouth fell open to protest, but to protest would have been to lie, and what wasthe point in that?
Iabruptly turned to her, impassioned by a sudden surge of panic. “You cannottell my mother.Please.”
“Oh,my God, butwhy?” she whined with desperation. Forty years of smokingcaused the higher pitches of her voice to sound akin to squealing tires.
Muchto my relief, Holly walked back to the table, fresh-faced and smiling. She slidinto the seat across from me and picked up a menu. Birdy straightened up andshook her head at me with disappointment, but she didn’t need to. I was alreadydisappointed in myself.
“I’llbe back to get your order, kids. Take your time,” she said, still glaringdirectly at me with her mouth forming a thin, tight line before turning tobound her way down the aisle towards the other diners.
Hollyput down her menu and leaned closer. “What was that about?”
Ishrugged. “Who the hell knows?” I brushed it off, hiding myself behind my ownmenu, just grateful that the prying into my soul had stopped.
“So,you never answered my question,” she said, turning the laminated pages.
“Whatwas that?”
“Doeseverybody know you?”
Ilaughed, putting the menu down, knowing already what I was going to order.“It’s a small town,” I reasoned with a shrug.
Sheshook her head. “Yeah, but I mean, you seem to have these close relationshipswith people, or at least from what I’ve seen.”
Ipursed my lips and scratched against my chin. “No, you’re right. I just have atendency to go where I feel comfortable, I guess.” I had a thought and chuckledat the realization. “Actually, you’re the firstrealfriend I’ve madesince … Shit, college, maybe.”
Therewas only a handful of people I had met over the years that I could considermyself friendly with, but could I sit in a diner at ten o’clock at night withany of them? The realization hit me with lonely clarity, and I waited for Hollyto flash me a sympathetic look.
