“Sure.” Not really. Usually, customers brought their mugs to the counter. But since she’d come all this way, Darius thought it would be rude to decline her offer. “Thanks, Michelle.”
“You’re welcome.” Michelle shot another glance in Noah’s direction.
Darius caught her wrist as his mug threatened to overflow. “Thank you, Michelle.”
r /> “Oh. Sorry.” Michelle turned again to Noah. His head was bent, absorbed with the remains of his brownie. She raised her voice. “Hi, I’m Michelle.”
Noah looked up. His throat worked as he swallowed a mouthful of pastry. He lowered his fork, rose to his feet, and offered his right hand. “I’m Noah.”
June would be so proud.
Michelle moved the coffeepot so she could shake Noah’s hand. “Would you like some more water?”
“Yes, please.” Noah gave Michelle his half-full glass. Michelle blushed as she turned away. Noah resumed his seat.
Speaking of idiots . . . Darius kept that observation to himself. “Peyton and I are seeing each other.” Thinking of her gave him a warm feeling. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to forget my friends. Why don’t you talk with June? Let her know you’re worried about her.”
“Could you talk with her?” Noah’s eyes brightened with the idea. “I want to know what she’s thinking.”
“This is a conversation you need to have with your mother. Not me.”
“Please, D. She’ll be straight with you.”
“Noah—”
“Please.”
Darius took a deep breath. The air was heavy with the scent of pastries and other baked goods and the tang of the spices and fresh vegetables Doreen was using in the afternoon’s soup.
He scowled. “Fine. I’ll speak with June. First. But you’ll need to speak with her on your own after.”
Noah grinned, offering Darius his hand. “Deal.”
Michelle returned with Noah’s water. “Here you are.”
Still grinning, Noah accepted the glass from her. “Thank you.”
Michelle blushed again, then left.
Darius watched her go. “You know, I’m not the only idiot in our family.”
“What does that mean?”
Darius’s answer was a smile.
“Noah’s not here,” June called to Darius Sunday afternoon.
Darius looked up and found her standing in the doorway of her little wood-and-stone cottage at the end of the short, curving path. He’d made this trip to Sequoia, Ohio, a small town neighboring Trinity Falls, at least once a week for almost six years.
“I know.” In the cold air, his breath formed white puffs with his words.
“I thought he went to see you yesterday.” She stepped back to let Darius into her home. The cozy little cottage was full of natural light, bright colors, and fat, fluffy furniture.
“He did. I came to see you.” Darius stripped off his black topcoat and gave it to June with his thanks.
“Why?” June hung his coat in her front closet, then led him into her living room. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, thank you.”