The Strawberry Hearts Diner(47)
“Thanks, Woody,” Jancy said.
“And soon as I get that phone down there, I’ll tell Vicky to check in with an update about every hour. See you later.” He met Emily in the parking lot and put the duffel bag and purse into the passenger’s seat of his truck.
“You okay? You look like you’ve been cryin’,” Jancy asked Emily.
“I have, but I’m better. It just hit me hard that life without Nettie would be so empty and . . .” She grabbed a napkin and dabbed the tears from her eyes. “I’m sorry. I need to be stronger. I was raised by the strongest women in the whole county. This is unacceptable.”
Ryder drew her close for a hug. “It’s okay. Cry if you want to.”
She leaned into his chest and then took a step back. “Thank you for the hugs and for helping me at the house. I’ll be fine—especially after I see her tonight. Y’all will be here at seven thirty, right?”
“On the button,” Shane said. “We should get on back to the shop. I promised that feller that his car would be detailed and ready to pick up by five.”
The diner seemed emptier than usual when they’d left. Jancy grabbed a broom and started sweeping. Emily began to spray the booth seats down, and then she dusted the mini blinds covering all the windows in the place.
“Where does Shane live these days?”
“In a little white house just north of the junkyard and body shop.”
“What was that old story about his folks?”
Emily sat down on a bar stool and twirled it around so she could lean against the counter. “Story is that his parents married young, and after he was born they decided they were going to join up with a commune up in Wyoming. His grandpa told them that they weren’t takin’ a two-year-old off like that, so they gave Shane to him to raise. Nettie thinks that the reason he stutters on W and M is because their names were Waylon and Melissa. They both died a couple of years after they left. Shane’s grandpa says they got the flu and the people in the commune didn’t believe in doctors or medicine. They were treating them with herbal stuff. Pneumonia was what was on the death certificates. They’d asked to be cremated like your mama was and for their ashes to be spread over the mountains.”
“I remember part of that story but had forgotten about their names,” Jancy said. “And Ryder? Where’s his folks?”
“Both passed away a while back. His mama is buried in Dallas and his dad up in Montana. I think he still has cousins, but he never has much contact with them. He still lives with Shane when he’s in town. They’ve always been like brothers,” Emily answered. “What about you? Other than that cousin you were going to visit, you got any others?”
“Nope. You?”
“Some distant ones scattered around Texas but no one that we’ve kept up with other than cards at Christmas,” Emily said.
Jancy finished sweeping, poured two glasses of sweet tea, and carried them to the booth. “I always wanted a brother or a sister.”
“Me, too,” Emily said. “I’m having half a dozen kids. Being an only child is lonely.”
Jancy sighed. “You are preachin’ to the choir, girlfriend.”
CHAPTER TEN
Vicky hadn’t had such nervous jitters since the day she and Creed told Nettie that she was pregnant and they wanted to get married. She’d barely settled down when Creed had died in the motorcycle wreck. She’d been disappointed when Emily told her that she wanted to finish college with online courses, but she didn’t get the hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach that seeing Nettie hooked up with tubes brought about.
Andy laid a hand on her forearm. “I must’ve driven past your diner hundreds of times. It all started with a girl from Pick who came in for a wedding cake.”
Making small talk wouldn’t make the emptiness in her gut go away. Even so, his touch was comforting. It helped knowing that another person was there trying to soothe the vacuum that fear created.
He went on. “What she really wanted instead of a groom’s cake was a fancy tiered stand with tarts from your diner on it, but it wasn’t possible. When I asked her why, she told me the rule about only two going out the door. I thought she was crazy, but then a couple of my employees stopped just to see what the big deal was, and they came back raving about them. So I decided to see for myself.”
Listening to his deep drawl kept Vicky from letting herself go into that dark place where pictures of Nettie in a casket flashed through her thoughts.
“And you are thinking of that, why?” she asked.
“If I hadn’t, then I wouldn’t have gotten a cravin’ for them and I wouldn’t be here today with you. There’s no place I’d rather be,” he said.