Bo seemed oblivious to the unspoken excitement between Mickey and me.
“Great. That’s going to help a ton. I’ve already done some brainstorming on people to reach out to who might be able to offer food, labor, or commercial kitchen space. I’ll give that to you guys so you can make the rounds. I’ve also put together a budget with the grant funding that I’ll email to you when I get back to the office.” As if on cue, his phone buzzed. “I’ve got to run. I’ve got another meeting starting in five. Thanks so much.” He stood. “And keep that news between us, okay? I don’t want to tell anyone else until things get a bit more ironed out. That includes your families. Some of them have loose lips.” Bo smirked and clapped Mickey’s shoulder before walking toward the door and waving at Caspian on the way out.
After Bo left, Mickey and I stared at each other.
“I can’t believe it,” Mickey said.
“Maplewood featured on the most popular morning show in the country? This could be amazing for the town.” I knew my family would be over the moon about increased traffic to Sparky’s.
“Dad’s going to lose it.” He stared off into the distance. “It’s a big spotlight on the diners.”
I couldn’t quite read his expression.
“So, how do you want to handle things once we get that list from Bo?” I asked.
“Maybe we can start after Thanksgiving? It’s going to be pretty swamped at the diner the next few days.”
I nodded. “Same with Sparky’s. It’ll be all hands on deck. Plus, we host our Thanksgiving at the restaurant. What about you?”
Mickey chuckled. “That sounds rowdy but fun. Mine is small. Usually Dad, Aunt Ingrid, and any random family members in town.”
“What about your mom?”
Mickey’s smile dimmed. “My parents divorced when I was in college, and now she travels or spends Thanksgiving with her family.”
As soon as he said it, I remembered hearing that gossip years ago. One of the many random tidbits I’d heard about the Brewers and Red’s over the years. Now I wished I remembered them.
“I’m sorry. That had to be hard.”
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “It’s fine. I get why she left.”
Something in how he said it made my heart break.
“Anyway, let’s start after the holiday?”
“Perfect. Split the list or go together?” I wanted to spend more time with Mickey, but I didn’t know if he felt the same. Maybe the prospect of doing all this work together soundedabout as fun to him as a root canal. Or maybe he was feeling the same as I was.
“You’re far more outgoing than I am. I think we’ll do better if we team up.”
I smiled at the eagerness in his eyes. “And you know way more people in town. So, we’ll use my extrovertedness—is that a word?—and your connections.”
“The dynamic diner duo.”
I leaned forward and smirked. “Alliteration is so sexy.”
Mickey blew out a breath while laughing. “This might kill me.”
TWELVE
MICKEY
“A rookie wouldn’t have missed that pass, you overpaid turd in pads!”
Aunt Ingrid snorted at Dad’s football-watching outburst from the living room and smiled wryly at me over her shoulder from where she stirred the cranberries on the stove in Dad’s kitchen. “I’m not sure Joe even enjoys football. All he ever does is yell at the players while sitting on his ass in his overpriced recliner. As though he’d do better.”
Chuckling, I rinsed the colander of freshly peeled sweet potatoes. “Hey, that recliner has footrests, a heated seat, and an adjustable head and back.” Though she was right. Dad only watched football on Thanksgiving and yelled at the TV like he religiously followed it. It was funny.
“For what he paid for it, it should massage your feet and tell you you’re pretty.”
