Those words had a haunting quality. I suspected Mickey did a lot of things for his parents and in Matty’s memory out of obligation more than interest.
“That’s one hell of a burden.”
Mickey shrugged like it wasn’t. He wasn’t fooling me.
“What about you? Are you glad Sage is working at the diner so you don’t have to stick around?”
I winced. Mickey couldn’t have known the sharpness of his words, but they hurt, nonetheless.
“I wasn’t given the choice either. You didn’t have a chance to say no, and I didn’t get the opportunity to say yes.”
“What do you mean?” Mickey absently brushed his thumb across the denim covering my shin.
“Since Sage is the oldest, they had the option to take or leave the diner. They’ve shown interest in it for as long as I can remember, and it’s never seemed like a possibility that Sage wouldn’t, so I guess it never felt like I could.”
“What about you running it together?”
It was my turn to shrug and look away. “That never came up either. Mom and Dad always encouraged me to go out and explore. Get out of the small town. Spread my wings. Yadda yadda.”
Mickey frowned. “Sage didn’t want to partner up?”
“I don’t think I ever let myself consider it. I’m not sure we’d work well together.”
Mom loved Maplewood, but she hadn’t grown up here. She and Dad had met on a fluke while Mom was traveling during summer break from her chef program, eating her way through New England. Lucky for Dad, she’d spotted Sparky’s before Red’s, and the rest was history. But I knew she missed the vibrancy of Providence.
“Mom started giving me college brochures to schools in New York and Boston almost as soon as I entered high school. At the time, I thought it was incredible. Parents encouraging me to leave our tiny town for a big city? Half my friends were begging their parents to let them look at out-of-state schools.”
“Like me.” He smiled ruefully.
Mickey would probably love Boston. I wish he’d had the opportunity to live somewhere else, but it was hard to imagine him being happy long-term anywhere other than Maplewood. This quirky, friendly town suited him.
“Now that I’m back here for longer than a quick weekend, I’m getting a sense of what I’ve missed out on.” I rested the side ofmy head against the back of the couch. “That’s life though, right? The grass is always greener.”
“Maybe it’s not too late.” Mickey’s voice was soft.
I shook my head. “Sage and my parents have their succession plan all mapped out.”
“But would you want to run it? If you had the chance?” he pressed.
“I don’t know anything about running a diner. Sage has over a decade of experience learning from them. If I had cooking experience, maybe we could run it like a duo, like our parents do, but Sparky’s doesn’t need two owners who don’t know how to cook.” Sage and I would just butt heads. “This is just a pit stop until I figure out my shit.”
Mickey didn’t call me out on not directly answering his question.
“I get that. I don’t know how to cook either—professionally, anyway—so when I take over, I’ll have to find a solid chef to take over for Dad.”
I stretched toward the coffee table and grabbed the wine bottle to top off our glasses.
“You’re really easy to talk to. I know we have this thing in common that others don’t get, but it’s more than that.”
I loved the deep lines around his mouth when he smiled.
“I know what you mean. Talking with you is different. I don’t feel like I have to push myself to talk, and I don’t feel pressured to either. I appreciate that.”
I wanted to say more. I wanted to invite him on a date and see where it took us. I wanted to explore this connection with Mickey to find out if it had legs. Except my life wasn’t in Maplewood any longer. Instead, I was merely a tourist in my hometown.
NINETEEN
MICKEY
