Page 19 of Sundown Somewhere

I make a face, not because of the mention of her wedding, but because I hate that she feels that she can’t enjoy food. She was perfect at whatever weight she was before, and she’s perfect now. Actually, she could stand to get a little closer to what she was before. She filled out those jeans better.

Not that I will ever admit that out loud.

Instead, I grab her hand, pulling her into me. Depositing the plate onto the table, I reach under the table and grab the bucket that’s under there, flipping it upside down to use as a seat. I settle myself, then pull Dolly into my lap in one swift move, as if it were an everyday kind of thing. It’s easy, light, and comforting—something I know she feels too, because in an instant, she’s relaxing into my chest, resting her head on my shoulder.

Fuuuuck…

My heart leaps, the weight of her against me feeling better than it has any right to. Few things in this world compare to having her in my arms or curled up next to me. Knowing that she’s safe, and that I’m the one keeping her that way. It’s a fine line though—because she’s not mine to feel that way about.

Don’t get me wrong; she’s my girl. Just not like that.

“How you feelin’?” I ask, running my fingers up and down her back.

“Like I could use a nap. Three thirty wake-up calls suck.”

Nuzzling into my neck, she sighs again, this one just lighter than before, her body relaxing with each new breath.

“Says the girl who owns a diner that opens at six,” I tease.

“There is a big difference between an alarm that goes off at three thirty and five. Ninety whole minutes of sleep.”

I laugh. She has me there.

“Well, here.” I grab the pastry, holding it up for her to take a bite. “Enjoy the spoils of your labor.”

She lifts her head enough to take a large bite, unceremoniously chomping down, like a little kid. Icing sticks to the end of her nose and I have to fight the urge to kiss it off, same as I have since we were kids.

“Do you remember when we put dry ice in all the toilets junior year? And Principal Cade was convinced that there was a toxic substance in the school plumbing?” she asks, a mouth full of cinnamon roll.

I laugh, both at how cute she is talking with her mouth full, but also because how could I forget?

Her laughter as we watched Principal Cade, Mrs. Chamberlain, and all our other teachers run around in a panic was almost as good as the devious smile on her face when she’d come up with the idea the weekend before at the Hayes Industries truck or treat stop. Miss Belle had created a whole scene, including a massive witch’s cauldron that required dry ice to give off the effect of brewing something. One minute we’re handing out candy, the next Dolly’s looking at me like she’s had the next great idea. Which, she had.

Our teachers didn’t think so. But the week’s detention was more than worth it. Especially with her by my side.

“I do. I can still hear Mrs. Marshall telling everyone not to touch anything.” I laugh. “What made you think of that?”

Dolly shakes her head. “Nothing specific. It’s just been a long time since we’ve done anything like that.”

“There someone’s toilet you want to dry ice?” I quirk up a brow, wondering who she could have in mind. I’m down; I’m just not sure it will have the same effect it did back then.

“No!” She laughs, nudging me with her shoulder. “Not what I mean. We’re thirty-five, not seventeen. We’re past stupid pranks.”

“Are we?”

“Yes,” she says emphatically, eyes wide. Although that wild smile makes me think she doesn’t believe herself. “I mean, just gone out and gotten up to no good.”

She’s right. We haven’t. A large part of that is because she’s been with Jeff for the last six years and I’ve respected that. He didn’t exactly love that she had a male best friend. I like to think that he eventually came to terms with it, but deep down, I don’t know that he did. I wouldn’t have been the least surprised if I had been one of the reasons in that letter.

I take that back—I am surprised that our friendship wasn’t mentioned. I would have bet good money when Dolly told me to read it that I was going to find my name and some ridiculous accusation of her cheating with me. But nope.

Instead, he fed her another line of his never-ending bullshit. Bastard. Still, even before she met Jeff, it has been a minute. Dolly took over the restaurant after her grandmother passed and hasn’t looked back. Not that I’m one to talk—I all but live in that damn paper mill some days.

Maybe it’s time we do just that.

“Hi,” a sweet voice cuts through my thoughts. “Oh, I’m sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

We both look up at an older couple staring back at us, beaming. Dolly pops up out of my lap, swiping at her face with the back of her hand, cool air rushing around me, and I miss her instantly. More than I should.