When You Were Mine Page 12

  I'm still holding my phone from when I made the 911 call, so I offer it to Michael.

  "Do you want me to call your dad?"

  The ambulance rolls out of the parking lot as I ask, and his gaze trails the vehicle as it heads down the street. There are no sirens, so that's a good sign, I think.

  "Did you hear what she said?"

  Michael's words surprise me, and I let my hand, the one holding my phone, drop to my side as I shake my head.

  "Oh, sorry. No, I can call him."

  Instead of elaborating on his question, he changes the subject, and I don't ask him to clarify what he meant.

  I follow him back into the diner, where Steve is waiting by the cash register with an armful of clean, folded towels.

  "Is everything okay? I saw an ambulance leave the parking lot just now."

  I glance around the dining room as Michael explains, then decide to do a quick check to be sure everything is ready for the diner to open later. The night shift team leaves everything clean as part of their closing procedure, so I don't expect any problems there.

  Just the baking, which I need to finish.

  "My dad will probably meet me at the hospital. Do you want to come with me?"

  Michael's expression is unreadable, and I'm not sure if he wants me to go or not.

  He won't be alone, so that allows me to dare to suggest what is going through my head.

  "Why don't I stay here, finish baking, and let the first shift know what's happening? I can stay on and help open, too. I bet Sydney would be happy to come and do whatever she can, even though she hasn't officially been trained yet."

  His hand is already on his head, and I smile as he shoves his hair around, like he can clear his thoughts with the pressure.

  "That's a good idea, actually. Tamara and Jodi are waitressing today, and they can pretty much handle anything. Ellie should be here any minute, too."

  Without warning, he pulls me close to him and hugs me tight. My arms go around him without hesitation. No one is here to see us, since Steve has left to continue his cleaning routine, but what if there was?

  "Sorry," he whispers against my hair a moment before backing away. I have to hold myself back from leaning into him and maintaining our contact.

  It's been so long since we've been this close, and now, after yesterday's dance and this, today, I realize how much I've missed it.

  How much I've missed him.

  Missed us.

  "I better get back to those muffins."

  My claim sounds familiar. I think I used it not too long ago to get out of another awkward position with him.

  "Thanks, Jenny."

  He reaches out to me, but when our eyes meet, he pulls his arm back, as if he's unsure of what he was about to do. I take the opportunity to nod quickly and walk away, heading to the kitchen with my head and heart confused in some ways, but very certain in others.

  I am definitely still in love with Michael, and I want nothing more right now than to help him and his family keep the diner going while Cathy gets some rest.

  Hopefully that is all she needs.

  "Hey, Ellie," I greet the morning cook when I hear the back door open, but I hear Steve's voice chime in before Ellie can respond, explaining the morning’s events before I get a chance to do so myself.

  I go through the motions of baking muffins and bread after Ellie asks if I'm okay, my thoughts a jumble, and just as I finish cleaning up, my phone buzzes in my back pocket.

  After I wipe my hands on a paper towel, I manage to catch the call before it rolls into voice mail.

  "How's everything there?"

  Michael doesn't sound upset, and I find myself holding back a sigh in relief.

  "It's all good. Ellie's here, and I think everyone else should be here soon, right?"

  He's silent, and I wait for him to confirm the schedule I have in my head.

  "Yeah, that's true. I know you're wondering how Mom is, and they're doing tests right now to see what happened."

  "But she's okay, isn't she?"

  I can't keep the concern from my voice. The three of them are so close, and if anything happened to his parents, Michael would be devastated.

  Cathy is like a second mother to me, and I know how hard it would be for me to see her hurt or sick, especially if there was nothing I could do about it.

  "She's hassling Dad and me, telling us to go back to work."

  His laugh sounds true, not forced, and it reassures me.

  "We have everything under control here. Sydney says she'll be by later to help with clearing tables and making coffee, stuff like that."

  "Hey, can you hold on a second?"

  I nod, and murmur yes, then hear his father's voice as if from far away, like Michael is covering up the phone so I can't hear their conversation clearly.

  "Sorry, I need to go. Thanks for everything, Jenny."

  "No problem, Keep me updated when you can."

  He agrees, and I speak again, hoping he doesn't hang up before I'm finished.

  "Tell Cathy I love her, will you?"

  The line is silent, and right before I'm sure he's already gone, he answers.

  "I will, and she knows. I know."

  I wish he could see my smile, and how much it means to me that he is so sure his mom knows how much I care about her.

  Does he have any idea how much my feelings for him haven't changed?

  "I'll talk to you later, Michael. Don't worry about anything here, okay?"

  He hums in agreement, and I tap the phone to end the call.

  Ellie handles telling the waitresses about Cathy's trip to the hospital, but it doesn't keep them from asking me a dozen questions, some of which I have no answers for.

  By the time my sister shows up in a pair of worn jeans and an old Candyland t-shirt, we're in full swing with the Sunday late breakfast, early lunch crowd, which some people once tried to refer to as brunch. That didn't last long. This is Valley Vale, not the Silicon Valley.

  I'm working the cash register, as well as taking to-go orders over the phone and making sure the baked goods in the glass case stay filled, when my sister interrupts me.

  "You really know what you're doing, huh?"

  Sydney sidles up to me as she walks by, holding a stack of small plates she's carrying into the kitchen from an empty table. The rush has died down, and we aren't in as much of a hurry to seat people anymore.

  I shrug as I glance around, making sure that no one needs me for anything as I talk to her.

  "Practice, I guess. I've been working here off and on for years, so I should know what I'm doing by now."

  The phone rings, and I pick it up as Sydney keeps her focus on me. Does she need to talk to me about something, or is she just taking a little break?

  I take the customer's order and tap it into the register, where it will show up in the kitchen for Ellie to see and fill. Meanwhile, I can restock the muffins and cookies here in up front.

  "Jenny?"

  "Hmmmm?"

  My reply is absent-minded, as I consider how many of each kind of muffin I need to get, but she doesn't answer, so I take a quick look back at her to see what's wrong.

  A thin strand of hair has fallen from her high ponytail, and I tuck it behind her ear as I wait for her to continue, hoping that she knows she has my full attention now.

  "If he wasn't with someone else, would you be back together now? I saw the way you looked at each other yesterday, so don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about."

  "Well, if it isn't the Collins sisters."

  We're interrupted again, and I smile at a woman our parents went to high school with, right here in Valley Vale. Sydney sighs, and I raise my eyebrows at her, thankful to avoid her question.

  I don't have an answer for her, not a definite one, but I do know what I would want to happen if Michael was free.

  Which he isn't.

  "Hi, Justine. What can we do for you today?"

  "Well," she begins, leaning fo
rward onto the glass case counter that separates her from me and the cash register. "I heard there was some commotion here earlier this morning. Is everything okay?"

  Honestly, I'm surprised I haven't fielded any phone calls or questions about Cathy yet, either about her personally or about the ambulance, which was certainly sighted. Maybe without its sirens screeching, it wasn't worth much notice.

  Cathy is one of the most social people I know, but this is private. If she wants people to know that she's in the hospital, she or her husband, or Michael, can share that. It's definitely not my place to do it.

  "Everything is fine. Would you like some chocolate chip muffins? We all know how much your husband loves them."

  I wouldn't be surprised if she stopped in just to get a jump on any gossip, but if I can make a sale out of her visit, I can turn this into a win for the diner.

  "You have a good point, Jenny. How about six? His doctor says he needs to take it easy with sugar, but muffins are more like bread, right?"

  My smile is as genuine as it can be. After all, who doesn't try to rationalize what they're eating? Hopefully her husband won't eat all six at once, but he’s an adult who can decide how many carbohydrates he can inhale in one sitting.

  I tuck the muffins into a cardboard box lined with waxed paper, and fold the sides in as I reassure her.

  "I'm sure that if nothing else, he'll appreciate that you thought of him while you were out this morning. I know my dad loves it when we surprise him with muffins."

  This does the trick, and Justine leaves the diner with her box, sure that she's done something right for her marriage, and I need to tell Ellie that Mary may have to throw a batch of chocolate chip muffins in the oven when she arrives. They've been a favorite this morning, and it was good luck that Justine's husband prefers them. This way Mary doesn't have to bake two different kinds.

  "Don't think I'm not waiting for an answer."

  My sister walks by with a box of paper napkins in her arms, glancing back with raised eyebrows as she heads for the first empty booth at the far end of the dining room.

  Something tells me that once she reaches the last one up front, I'll have to tell her something.

  But what?

  Chapter Twenty

  Fortunately, we get a wave of new customers before Sydney finishes refilling the napkins at each table, but she has me thinking, and I find myself wondering how Cathy is doing.

  How Michael is doing.

  I haven't heard from him for several hours, and around three, Mary startles me when she puts a hand on my shoulder, coming up from behind as I fill out a deposit slip for the safe.

  "Oh, hey, Mary. Everything okay in the kitchen? Do you need anything?"

  She laughs and nods towards the dining room, where several tables are full of customers talking and eating.

  "Not a thing. How's our new manager?"

  I shake my head, horrified at the words.

  "Please don't say that, I'm just helping. I hope Cathy is back to work soon. I mean, I think she should rest, but . . ."

  She sighs loudly, and pats my back as she takes a look in the glass case. It's almost empty, but that's all the muffins we'll bake for the day. Now, brownies and pies, along with a couple of cakes, will replace them in the display for the dinner crowd.

  "You've been here since five this morning, right? Why don't you head out?"

  I'm about to tell her that I'm happy to stay, since there's no one to handle the register until closing, but a familiar presence appears beside us.

  "She's right."

  Michael's hair is standing on end, a result of his nervous habit, and I smile in spite of the serious situation. He looks like a little boy, lost and tired.

  "I can stay, it's no trouble. How's your mom?"

  He stands up straighter and crosses his arms as he nods.

  "A mini-stroke, they're saying. I've never heard of that, so I'm pretty freaked out. So is my dad."

  It does sound bad, but like him, I"m not sure what it means.

  "I can take over the register, so why don't you go home and rest. We'll need you back tomorrow morning, bright and early as usual."

  He's smiling now, but it's so fake it looks like it hurts him to force it.

  "No, I'm staying."

  Sydney skips up to the three of us before he can respond, and in spite of her girlish approach, her face is as serious as the rest of our conversation, her eyes wide and questioning as Michael acknowledges her.

  "Thanks for coming in to help, Sydney. We really appreciate it."

  She slides her arm around me.

  "Wow. You two look more like twins than just sisters," Mary observes, shaking her head.

  We get that a lot, but Sydney is going to be taller than me soon, and her longer, leaner limbs mark us as different.

  Michael continues talking as if Mary hasn’t spoken.

  "Thank you both, and that's from my parents, too. I hope you don't mind coming in to help more often, Sydney. I know you're waiting for the school year to finish, so if it's a problem, I understand."

  I want to hug him, but obviously, I can't. But he looks like he needs one, as well as some cake and a nap.

  "Please, go home. I shouldn't have been gone so long, and Jenny, you look beat. Beautiful, of course, but like you'll fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow."

  Sydney snorts, laughing a little.

  "Sleeping Beauty. Yep, that's our Jenny."

  She smirks at me and walks away, leaving me to face Mary in the light of what Michael just said.

  He doesn't seem to notice that his words have made me feel awkward, but Mary's eyebrows twitch along with the edges of her lips.

  "Call me if you need me back, okay?"

  With Mary as my only witness, I go ahead and give in to my urge to wrap my arms around him, for a moment. He's stiff in my arms at first, but relaxes, reaching around my waist just as I pull away.

  Mary clears her throat.

  "Why don't I call my daughter and have her come in to help until we close tonight?"

  I watch Michael nod in resignation, and I leave them both to head over to Sydney. If nothing else, I can help her clean up the dining room so it's ready for the dinner customers.

  "You never answered my question, Jenny."

  She's not whispering, although both Michael and Mary are still at the register. Mary has her phone in her hands, and Michael's hands are on his hips, but he looks our way. When he catches me watching him, he returns his gaze to Mary and hunches his shoulders a little.

  "I don't have an answer. Besides, it doesn't matter what I think, he's marrying someone else now."

  "But . . ."

  I interrupt her as I reach over and pull the sugar shaker across the table, wiping it down with a damp cloth. Once, I filled up all the sugar, salt, and pepper shakers while Michael helped his parents and Mary close up the diner, and he spent more time presumably checking on my progress when all we really did was kiss.

  His parents had smiled and sighed, reminding us to get to work or none of us would be able to go home.

  "No buts. My butt is big enough already without adding to it."

  It's a long standing joke between us, but I mean it. There's no point in speculating, except it's difficult not to, especially when he just called me beautiful and he isn't pushing me away when I get close to him.

  But, my big one notwithstanding, nothing can happen between us. I'm not the sort of person who would go after another woman's man.

  Would it be wrong to tell him how I feel, though? Or would it be mean, to put it out there and make him have to deal with it?

  If he even needed to. Emily is clearly a wonderful girl, for all that I know about her. Why would he want to leave her for me, after I threw away what we had without giving him the benefit of the doubt?

  "That dispenser is pretty clean now, I think."

  I'm still holding the glass container of sugar when my sister pulls me from my thoughts, which are going nowhere fast.


  "Why don't we bring some dinner home? I've hardly eaten today, and I know Mom and Dad would appreciate it."

  She nods vigorously. Today's special is chicken with rice, which is an old family recipe from Cathy's parents. It's warm and comforting, and I know once I take a few bites I'll be ready for bed.

  "I'll text Mom and let her know, so she doesn't start cooking."

  The day has gone by without a thought for my parents and the baby on the way, but I know once I'm home, I'll be staring at our mom, amazed at the idea that later this year, she'll be adding a brother or sister to our house for us.

  Sydney leans back into the side of the booth as she taps on her phone, and I swipe at the table to make sure there are no crumbs or sticky spots left over from the lunch crowd.

  Mary is thrilled with our request for dinner, always proud to share the fruits of her handiwork. She won't share the recipe with anyone, as it belongs to Cathy and Mark, but I can't imagine anyone could make it as well as she does even if they followed the process exactly.

  When Michael stops us as we are halfway out the front door, with bags of food and some muffins for our dad, I'm starting to feel the fatigue of nearly twelve hours of work.

  College life did not lend itself to preparing me for this.

  "I'm glad you agreed to go home. We'll see you tomorrow."

  He leans into the door, holding it open for us, but we are suddenly blocked by another figure making her way into the building.

  Emily.

  "Hi, Jenny."

  I chew on my lower lip as a rush of guilt floods inside me, although I haven't done anything wrong.

  Emily's pale hair rests in perfect, smooth curls on her shoulders, and I've never been more aware that my own is damp and flat after five hours beneath a hair net and seven more alternately drying and getting even more sweaty as I've worked in the dining room. My whole body is starting to itch, and I resist the urge to rub my face.

  "Hey, Emily."

  My smile is unenthusiastic but genuine, as I can't really bear any negative feelings towards her. She isn't doing anything to hurt me, and I don't feel as if she's jealous.