“And I’ll take a coffee,” Tanner said, then under his breath he added, “Because I’m not five.”
Becca kicked his shin. “I heard that.”
“So another Hartson boy is back in town,” Cora Jean said. “You here for a while?”
“I’m not sure how long I’m home for,” Tanner told her. “It depends how much Becca annoys me.”
This time her kick hurt. He winced, the pain shooting through his leg.
“Serves you right,” Becca told him, sticking her tongue out. “Now be nice.”
Cora Jean shook her head at their antics. “No wonder your aunt had her hair cut short. Stopped her from pulling it out.”
Tanner laughed. “She’s crazy about us.”
“You have no idea how true that statement is,” Becca told him. “You drive her crazy.”
“You want to order your food now, or shall I come back?” Cora Jean asked them.
“I know what I want.” Becca looked at Tanner. “How about you.”
“Go ahead.” He gestured at her.
Becca smiled up at Cora Jean. “I’d like a half pound hamburger with the works. And extra onions. Large fries and onion rings, too. Please.”
“Have you considered eating vegetables?” Tanner teased.
Becca shrugged. “I’m hungry. I’ve been working all day. Unlike some.”
“I’ll take the BLT and a green salad,” Tanner said, handing the menu to Cora Jean.
“You want fries with that?”
“Yeah he does,” Becca answered for him. When he gave her a questioning look she shook her head. “You can’t eat in here without having fries. Murphy would kill you.”
The bell above the diner door dinged, though from where they were sitting neither Becca nor Tanner could see who it was.
“You folks want anything else?” Cora asked.
“Nope. We’re good. Thanks, Cora.” Becca handed her own menu over. As she walked away, Tanner leaned down to rub his shin, wincing at the bruise Becca’s pointed shoes had caused.
“You’re a baby,” she told him.
“You want me to kick you back?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. It was impossible not to smile at her. Every time he went back to New York he missed this. Bickering with Becca cheered him up, the same way roasting Gray and his brothers made him grin. It was the one time he felt alive, part of something.
Part of a family.
Maybe the diner wasn’t so bad after all.
“The diner was always Craig’s favorite,” Zoe told Van as she pushed open the glass door and they walked onto the white tiled floor. The smell of fried food wafted around them, making Van’s stomach growl. “He used to bring me here sometimes. Not for a while though.”
“How are you feeling about him leaving?” Van asked her.
“I dunno.” Zoe’s face was impassive. “Where do you want to sit?”
Van bit down a smile at her unwillingness to talk about her emotions. She was like Van’s miniature in that respect. “How about we go to the booth in the corner. It used to be my favorite when I was a kid. Nobody can see you there, or judge what you’re eating.” She winked. “Or how much.”
“You used to eat here?” Zoe asked, looking at Van with interest. “That’s cool.”