Me
He’d be really sweaty from all that hard labor so I’d offer to let him use my shower…
Then…
Rowan
Hannah. Don’t.
Me
But I’m not done.
Rowan
I’m on a plane, sitting next to a kid watching Toy Story. You need to stop.
Me
That’s wild, I was just getting to the part about toys…
Rowan
HANNAH!
Me
Fine. How about this…
I love you too.
Nerves tumble around in my belly as I push inside the entrance to J&J’s.
I know weekends won’t ever look the same again, but my memories of Mom here are too special to give up on this place.Maybe I’ll sit at the dine-in counter instead of our usual table—familiar but not overwhelming.
“Hannah, you’re here!” the hostess exclaims. She rounds her podium and wraps me in a hug. “We’ve missed you and we’re so sorry to hear about Lydia.”
“Thank you. I think I’ll just sit at the counter today.”
“Oh, no need. Your table’s ready for you. The rest of your party’s already here.”
My brows twitch. “The rest of my—huh?”
She nods, grinning. “They’ve been here awhile.”
I bob my head pretending I know what’s going on. “Right, okay.”
She points me to the back, and I weave through the restaurant until Mom and my table comes into view. My breath catches somewhere between my throat and my chest.
Kristen and John. Richard. Artie, Tom, and Cecil. They’re all here.
“You made it!” Kristen shoves her husband over, patting the seat beside her.
I shuffle into the booth, slack jawed. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Having brunch with you,” Artie replies.
“Goddammit, Artie, at least trim that thing!” Cecil shifts his flatware away from the edge of the table where Artie’s beard has gone rogue. I doubt he’s taken clippers to it in weeks.