I’m about to argue with her when the back door opens. “Mom, I’m hungry.”
“What are you in the mood for, buddy?” I ask him.
Without missing a beat, he just blurts out, “Pancakes, waffles, eggs, and some bread.” I look at Caroline, and I want to put my hand on her neck and bring her close to me and kiss her, but instead, I just shake my head.
“I think we should get him fed before he adds lobster to that list.” I see the worry set into her eyes, and I know she’s probably thinking about paying the bill.
“I owe you breakfast,” I say. “It’s on me.”
“How do you figure you owe me breakfast?” she asks.
“You’re letting me take you, and you aren’t giving me a hard time about it,” I say. “So thank you.” I nod at her. “Now get in. I’m hungry, too.” I turn and walk to the driver’s side, and I don’t even realize that I’m holding my breath, waiting for her to get in the SUV. She gets in and then shakes her head. “Are we all ready?” I ask. Looking behind me, I see as Dylan nods his head to me.
Pulling away from the curb, I make my way to the arena, stopping at a diner halfway there. I get out, and when I walk around, Caroline is already getting Dylan out of the vehicle. It looks like she is telling him something, and he just nods his head at her. “Everything okay?”
“Yes,” she says, and I look at Dylan who just nods.
We walk up to the entrance, and the bells on the door ring as soon as I pull it open. “Sit where you want,” the older white-haired lady says, rushing from behind the counter to the back.
“Pick a seat,” I tell them, and Caroline walks in front of me to a booth along the window. She waits for Dylan to climb into the booth and then follows him in, and I sit in front of them. I grab the menus tucked behind the salt and pepper shakers, handing one to Dylan and then one to Caroline. Then I look down at my own.
The lady who told us to sit comes over with three glasses of water. “Hey there, what can I get for you?” I look at Caroline to go first.
“Um,” she starts to talk and then looks down at the menu, and I see her eyes roaming over the menu.
“I can order first,” I tell the lady who holds the pad in one hand and the pen in the other. “I’ll take pancakes, waffles, two eggs over easy, two eggs scrambled, some hash browns, six orders of toast, and three orange juices.” The lady just rolls her lips, trying not to laugh, and I look up at her. “Just put the plates in the middle, and we can all share.”
“Got it,” she says, and then looks at Caroline. “Did you want to add some fruit with that?” Caroline just shakes her head. “Coming right up.”
“Do you know how much food you just ordered?” Caroline leans over the table and directs her question at me, but her voice is louder than she intended.
“Well, you took too long, so I ordered for us,” I say, grabbing the water and taking a sip, my mouth suddenly dry.
“Can we talk?” Caroline says. “Outside.” She gets up. “Honey, I’ll be right outside.”
“Okay, Mom,” he says.
I smile at him. “Don’t eat all that food before I come back.” He smiles back and shrugs. I follow Caroline outside, ignoring the fact that the yoga pants mold her ass like a second skin and should be worn with a long shirt to cover it. I wonder to myself if I have a jacket in the car, and then I almost stop in my tracks. What is happening to me? I don’t have time to think about it because we are outside in front of the window, and she looks in to see if Dylan is okay.
“I can’t afford to pay for this meal,” she says, her head held high and her shoulders back. “There is no way I can even imagine what that bill will be, but …”
I hold up my hand to stop her from talking. “When did I ask you to pay for anything?”
“I can’t afford to pay this. Not now”—she talks faster now—“not next week, not even next month. I am not a charity case.”
“Are you done?” I ask and wait for her to indicate she is listening. I step into her space, and she takes one step back, which pisses me off to no avail. Suddenly, I want to sit her down, and I want her to tell me everything. I want to know everything about her, but something says to tread lightly. “I’m not doing it for charity, and I don’t expect you to pay me back. Not this week, not next week, not even next year. I don’t know your story, Caroline, and I’m not even sure you would tell me, but I want you to listen and to pay attention to the words I’m about to say. I’m doing this because I want to and because I can. I’m doing this because sometimes people come into your life for certain reasons. I don’t always know what that reason is, but I know that I want to be your friend, Caroline. And as your friend, this is what people do.”
“I don’t have many friends,” she says, and I smile. “I mean, if you think about it, I probably have maybe one friend. But she’s more of an acquaintance.”
“Well, I’m happy I’m your first.” I try to make a joke but see that her eyes are filling with tears, and it kills me to see her cry. “Don’t,” I say softly, and my hand flies out to touch her face and catch the tear that falls out of her eye. “Don’t cry.” Her skin is soft like silk, and I want nothing more than to pull her to me.
“I’m not crying,” she says and steps out of my grasp. “It’s just I usually do things on my own.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” I say, then look in and see that the waitress is there with the food. “It doesn’t make you less of a person to accept help. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty sure that kid can eat everything I ordered, so I think we should go in and make sure he doesn’t.” I walk away, and when my hand touches the door handle, she speaks.
“Thank you,” she says softly, and I turn back to see her standing there with her hands in front of her. “I don’t know what your reason is, but I want to just say thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Caroline,” I say to her softly, and my heart speeds up. This tiny woman who comes at me with guns blazing and ready to go to war doesn’t even know how much she is worth.
Chapter Six
Caroline
“Thank you.” It’s the only thing I can say to him. My heart is beating so fast I can’t even focus on anything else. From the minute I saw him standing there waiting for us, my knees have been shaky. I didn’t know what he was doing, and I have no idea what’s going on. It’s just too much.
“Let’s go eat,” he says, and I have to stop looking at him because all it does is make me want something I can’t have. He holds the door open for me, and I walk in with him following, and he is not wrong. Dylan is already eating one waffle and is grabbing a pancake to add to his plate. The syrup is already in front of him, and there is syrup on his plate.
“I was going to wait,” he says to me with his cheek full of food as he takes another bite. It looks like he hasn’t eaten in a month.
“Oh, I forgot to order bacon and sausage,” Justin says, sitting down on his side of the table. He holds up his hand, and the sleeve rises and shows his arm muscle, and I suddenly wonder how many people got lost in those arms. Is he with someone right now? Did he have to sneak out to come and pick us up, or did he tell her all about the poor lady with the kid whose car broke down? “Can we get some bacon and sausage?”