Drake frowned. “Not anymore. Did you not hear about her insanity on the roof of her car?”
“I saw it,” I told him.
“Right, well, do you know why she was on the damn roof of an unparked car in the middle of the street?”
“She was high or drunk,” I replied.
“Wrong. Saul had broken things off with her, told her to leave again, and she flipped her batshit crazy switch.”
“What?”
Drake shrugged. “Saul ended things with her. She was wailing about him not loving her and that he wanted someone else.”
“He ran after her to bail her out of jail,” I informed him.
“Of course he did. That’s what Saul does. He rescues people. He got her ass out of jail, although I thought she could have used a couple days of reality check, and then he called her rich daddy in Mobile to come get her.”
I glanced at the window to see Hillya now vacuuming. I had to get back inside.
“Listen, Drake. If you are here to tell me not to date Rio or whatever, I am not dating him. We are friends and will only ever be friends. I don’t know why Saul broke the glass, or whatever. But this is a conversation that y’all need to have at your place. I don’t think it has anything to do with me, but I am flattered that you believe I could draw Saul’s attention.”
Drake stared at me a moment then laughed. I wasn’t amused and glared at him ready to just leave him out here and go back inside. Today had been too long and I didn’t have nearly enough sleep for all this.
“Rio and Saul have been best friends for a long damn time. Don’t be what comes between them,” Drake said. “You’re more dangerous than you realize.” He winked then and turned to walk away.
I didn’t respond and I only stood there a moment, looking at him walk out to the road before going inside and finishing up. My mind was turning over everything Drake had said, though and by the time I left for the night, I wasn’t sure what I believed anymore.
Sixteen
Rio was asleep on the sofa when I walked in the door last night around eleven. I tossed a blanket over him before I went and got ready for bed. I barely remembered my head hitting the pillow. When my alarm went off, it felt as if I had just lain down.
I left the house and headed for work with Rio still on the sofa asleep.
Hillya was busy icing cupcakes when I arrived to start the new granola for the acai bowl I intended on calling the Summer Splash. She had Emily rolling out dough and the local country radio station was playing. Emily mumbled a good morning and looked as tired as I felt. Hillya had a travel mug full of coffee beside her and was wide awake and focused.
We spent the next hour baking; Emily did some dancing when a song she liked came on, and Hillya asked me questions about my new acai bowl recipes. She was intrigued by the bowls and I knew she wanted to be able to make them herself.
My mornings here were becoming something I looked forward to and enjoyed. I felt like I had found a place I fit in and people I liked being around. Gran had known this and thanks to her, here I was. The next item on the list would need to get done on Sunday. I was hoping to get two of the requests accomplished that day, but I was finding that Gran’s list wasn’t always cut and dry.
“What ingredients do you need for the Banana Rama acai bowl you were telling me about?” Hillya asked me.
“Several, do you have some paper? I can write it down,” I replied.
“Emily, go to my office and find me a pen and paper please,” Hillya told her niece.
Emily did a little shimmy to Little Big Town’s newest song about beer and whiskey on her way out of the kitchen. Hillya just shook her head and smiled. I went back to mixing more granola and my thoughts drifted to the things Drake had said last night. I had been going to talk to Rio about it, but he hadn’t been awake.
“I’m sorry,” Emily said, coming back into the kitchen holding a picture frame.
Hillya looked at it and frowned.
“I might have done a hip kick and I knocked this picture of Rebel off the shelf. It broke, but I’ll buy you a new frame,” she said.
I don’t know what else was said after that because my brain locked on the name Rebel. I stared down at the granola in the bowl, not wanting either of them to see the shock on my face. I had to work this through in my head before I asked any questions. How likely was it that there were two people named Rebel in this small town in the past forty years? I’m thinking that possibility is low.