When Jazzy was thirteen, and got her first period, Sarah brought her here to celebrate Jazzy becoming a woman and they’d ordered the same sandwiches. The food had been so delicious, they ordered the same thing every time.
“You got it. You want chips, fries, or the fruit cup with that.”
“Fruit cup,” she and Sarah said in unison and grinned at each other. The worry that had been gnawing at Jazzy since she’d climbed out of Roan’s window that night abated in the face of their happy routine.
“Peach tea to drink,” Sarah said. “With honey and lemon.”
“Same for you, hon?” the server asked.
“Yes. Thanks.”
The server smiled and went off to fill their order.
“Now,” Sarah said, settling into the plush padded chair. She reached across the table to touch Jazzy’s hand. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Don’t tell Dad. I’m not ready for him to know yet.”
Sarah pantomimed zipping her lips, tickinga lock, and throwing the pretend key over her shoulder.
“Roan Sullivan and I are dating...” Jazzy paused. “I think.”
“You think?”
Quickly, Jazzy told her a G-rated version of what had happened the other night. “I crawled out the window like a dufus so I wouldn’t have to face his mother and Trinity. I feel like an idiot.”
“Why?”
Jazzy shrugged. “I don’t know. I understand his daughter must come first. I really do. It’s just that...”
Sarah waited expectantly, her gaze hooked on Jazzy’s face, and her hand still on top of Jazzy’s arm. “You know you can tell me anything.”
Jazzy nodded. “I know.”
“Please don’t feel obligated to share something you’re not ready to share,” Sarah added. “But you did ask me to lunch out of the blue, so it seems you want to talk.”
Pausing, Jazzy considered how to phrase her question. “What was it like dating my dad when I was little? I mean, when it came to finding private time with him.”
“Ahh,” Sarah said, leaning back and folding her arms in her lap. “Bringing out the tough questions.”
“Is that too personal?”
“Not at all. I’m just afraid you won’t like the answer.”
The server appeared with their order. When the woman was out of earshot, Sarah unfurledher napkin, settled it in her lap and leaned across the table to whisper conspiratorially. “At least youchoseto climb out the window.”
“Pardon?”
“When you were little and at a sleepover with Andi Browning, you got homesick just like Trinity.”
“Wh-what? Really?”
“Uh-huh.” Sarah smiled, amused.
“I did?”
“I was in town for a book signing and staying at the Merry Cherub B&B. I’d gone out in a paddleboat and didn’t realize a wind warning was in effect. A gust caught the boat and blew me to the middle of the lake. Then it started sinking. Your father came to my rescue.”
“You and Dad told me that story before,” Jazzy said. Many times. Usually when they told it, they shot each other knowing glances and grinned. Jazzy slapped a hand across her mouth. “OMG, was that the first time you and Dad—”