She looks down the street as if truly contemplating the question rather than offering a perfunctory,I’m good, then her gaze finds mine again.
“I’ve been better.Just needed to get out of the Grill—or, more like, away from my dad.”
Her father is Pop, and while I’ve seen him at the Grill, we haven’t been introduced.
“Oh, that doesn’t sound good.”
“It isn’t bad either.We just keep running around in circles over the same old thing.”
I close my notebook.“Anything an impartial ear can help with?”
She nibbles on her bottom lip.“The Grill belongs to our family, and I’ve always wanted to run it.Even went to school for it—business degree, minor in hospitality.”
“That’s great.”
“Yeah, but since I graduated, Pop”—she shakes her head slowly—“I don’t know what it is, but he keeps making me jump through hoops.Like he doesn’t trust me.”
“Hoops?”
“I’ve worked every position in the restaurant.I balked at it first, kind of insulted, but he had a point.If I was going to manage the business and the staff, I needed to appreciate their roles.Server is the last one, which is where I currently am.Next is management, and …” She trails off.
I nod and keep my mouth shut, sensing she needs to talk it through.
“I can already tell he’s not going to give me the reins.”Everything in her deflates, even her usually sparkly green eyes going dull.
Maddox steps back out onto the sidewalk, dusting his hands against his jeans.“Hey, Perce.How’s it going?”
“Mad.”She brightens.“I’m good, you?”
“Good.”He smiles.
Percy glances between us.“What are you two doing out?”The look she cuts me is quick but clear—she’s done with the heavier conversation for now.“If you’re in the mood for a treat, you should check out Beyond the Cake.Ada’s got her huckleberry pie.”Her eyes widen with delight.
“Damn, that’s tempting.”Maddox licks his lips and lowers his voice conspiratorially.“Don’t let Mrs.Thatcher hear you.”
Percy snorts.“As if we don’t know half of her baked goods come from Beyond the Cake.”
The two chuckle, and a warmth spreads through me.I’d wondered if there was a story behind two popular bake shops in town, and now something tells me there is.
“So, if you’re not out for food, what’s up?”Percy curls a few strands behind her ear.
“Showing Grace around town.Some of the highlights of my misspent youth.”Maddox grins sheepishly.
“Oh, that’ll be fun.Grace, you’ll have to give me the dirt.”She chuckles.“Well, I’ll leave you to it.Good to see you both.Have a good evening.”
After we wave her off, we start walking again.
“You know, for someone who didn’t want a shadow,” I say, watching him from the corner of my eye, “you’re remarkably good at being decent.”
He stops long enough to look at me, something flickering across his face, uncomfortable with the teasing or maybe the compliment.It’s hard to tell with him.
Then he walks again.“Pike’s Hardware.”He tips his head down the street.“First job I ever had.Swept floors, stocked shelves, tried not to break anything expensive.”
“How’d that go?”
“Two out of three.”The corner of his mouth lifts.“Come on.”
I fall into step beside him, grateful for all of it, the time he’s taking, the small unremarkable details he’s handing over without realizing how much they’re worth.This is what gives a profile its texture.