Ten minutes later, the meeting wrapped up and people began filtering out. Mickey, Bo, and I didn’t move.
“Hey, Amos.” Roger, from the city’s power and light utility, approached. “There are a couple of Sparky’s regulars in the shop”—he shot an apologetic smile to Mickey—“and they’re talking about how great that burger special was. Cheese from a place called Mystic Rind? They wanted me to ask if you had any inside tips on where they could get some of it. We’ve got a holiday potluck coming up, and one of the guys offered to make buffalo burgers with that cheese.”
“Maplewood Matters?” I milked every minute of the semester of high school drama class to try and look nonchalant while I was screaming inside. Pieces began falling into place about Mickey’s mood.
I felt tension radiating from Mickey. Even Bo stiffened on my other side.
“Yeah, they did a whole thing about the hot new cheese in the area, but no one knows anything about it. I’d like to try it, but I only eat at Red’s. No offense.”
“None taken. Sorry, but I don’t believe it’s available for sale anywhere.” It took effort not to look at Mickey, but I didn’t want to accidentally give him away. Not that Roger would jump to that conclusion.
He nodded as though he expected the answer. “Thanks anyway. See you guys later.”
Once Roger left the room, only the three of us remained. The silence was stifling until Bo cleared his throat.
“Did I hear that right? Mickey’s cheese is at Sparky’s?”
I looked to Mickey for guidance. I wasn’t sure how much he wanted Bo to know.
“Dad wouldn’t use my cheese on any dishes, but Amos made it happen. Beth put it on a burger special.”
Bo assessed me, and I let him. I wanted him to see how much I cared about Mickey, and no matter what happened between us, he deserved to have his dreams come true. If I could help him achieve that in any small way, I was glad to.
“Good. It’s about time more people get to enjoy Mickey’s talent.”
My shoulder’s relaxed.
When Bo’s phone buzzed, he cursed. Fatigue radiated from him. “I’ve got to go. Mickey, I’ll call you later. Okay?” His brow creased in concern.
“Sure. Talk to you later.”
Bo gave me another look as he stood, but I couldn’t read his expression.
When he neared the door to the library meeting room, Mickey called out. “Can you close the door behind you? I need to talk to Amos.”
Bo paused, then nodded. “Sure. Later, guys.” He closed the door.
I moved to take Bo’s seat so I could touch him. Since we were alone, I reached under the table and squeezed his thigh, trying to offer support despite the nausea crawling up my throat. “What’s going on? You seem miserable.”
“I learned something today, and I’m not sure if I should tell you or not. I don’t know how to ask if you want to know without telling you too much, in case you don’t want to know. But it also doesn’t seem fair to make the decision for you.”
My head spun trying to sort through the riddle.
“If you want to know, it might be something you need to keep from Sage. It would be your decision, but know that’s a possibility.”
Some possibilities loosely formed in my mind, but I didn’t want to examine any of them closely. “Tell me.” I was desperate to know what had him so upset.
He stared into my eyes. “Are you sure? We can’t go back from this.”
“Are you about to tell me you’ve murdered someone and need help hiding the body?” My ridiculous attempt at a joke to break the tension made Mickey smile.
“It’s not that bad.”
“Okay, then tell me.”
Mickey squeezed his eyes closed. “I learned today that our dads are friends too. I don’t know if they’re aware that our moms are friends, but I suspect they know. Our grandfathers are friends too.”
“What about Sparky and Red?” I asked quietly. My body went unnervingly still. Shock? Resignation?
