“I’m a cat with worms in this scenario?”
“Yes,” she assured me, nodding.
“Whatever,” I grumbled. “Tell me about your epiphany.”
She perched on my bed, holding her purse in her lap. “So last night, after closing and everyone left, I had a long talk with Lance. As you and I both guessed, he’s moving to LA.”
“No shit.” I breathed out. “He’s really going?”
“Not going, gone. He and Connie hit the road first thing this morning.”
“I’m happy for him. You know he was never gonna be satisfied at Kingman’s.”
“I one hundred percent agree,” she granted, smiling at me. “He’ll have his own cooking show on the Food Network in a few years, and we can all say we knew him when.”
I nodded.
“And since Lance decided the best thing for him was to get out, I’ve come to the exact same conclusion,” she explained, grimacing. “Being assistant manager is not for me anymore, so if you want the job, it’s all yours, free and clear.”
“I almost wish I could, that it would work, but it doesn’t make sense for me anymore either.”
“Right? I mean, me with my one kid and wanting more; you with school and the second job at the counseling center. Neither one of us can put in the time the job demands.”
“Exactly. They need someone who can work the position full-time.”
“Absolutely yes.” She put her hand over her heart. “You know I’ve wanted to start working from home, and last night when Keith and I talked about it, he was excited for me to open up an Etsy shop and give my knitting a real go.”
“That’s so great, Chey.”
“All this change out of the blue. It’s strange, but it’s been a long time coming, don’t you think? We’ve all needed to spread our wings and fly away for a while now.”
“But we were too chicken to do it.”
“And complacent. It’s easy to convince yourself everything’s fine; it’s much scarier to jump.”
I nodded.
“Anyway”—she reached out to gently scrub her fingers in my beard—“you want something else, so do I. If we stayed, we’d only be taking up space and keeping people who want to be at Kingman’s and help make it grow from doing that.”
“This is so exciting.” I held out my arms for her, and she leaned in gently, hugging me and kissing my cheek, having never minded the beard.
She sat back and swiped at her eyes, and her voice was a little watery when she spoke. “Don’t think just because you’re here and I’m still in Barrett Crossing, it means when I invite you for Christmas dinner that it’s too far to drive, okay? No excuses anymore, it’s time to let me in already.”
“If I’m here, we can talk about it.”
“Where else would you be?”
I shrugged. “There’s a guy, and he’s got a family, so we might be with them.”
Her eyes went crazy-wide, and her mouth dropped open.
“Give it a rest,” I groused at her.
“A guy,” she repeated, smiling huge as she stood up. “Lookit you out of your comfort zone. I’m so proud.”
“Don’t you need to get home?”
“Yes,” she agreed, chuckling. “I’m glad to see you in one piece. Lance told me to tell you he’d call from the road to say his goodbyes to you. And I guess that’s it, other than I expect the two of us to talk soon. Got it?”
“We will.” I was a little surprised to realize I meant it.
“Rest,” she ordered on her way out. “You look like crap.”
“I got beat up!” I yelled after her.
“It’s always excuses with you!” she roared back.
I took a minute to process everything as I drank my shake, but my stomach felt a bit too iffy to tackle the greasy mushroom burger. It looked hazardous.
Merrell was on the phone with Rita, pacing near the windows, barking questions at her and shooting me looks like I’d done something horrible to him. McCauley appeared confused, glancing at Merrell and then back at me.
Chyna Evans leaned into my room, her expression stern. “You can’t have guests if they’re going to yell. This is a hospital ward, not a football field—what in heaven’s name is that?”
“It’s a mushroom burger I’m not quite up to eating.”
“I should hope not. Is that a shake?”
I nodded as I sucked on the straw.
She groaned loudly. “You can’t have the burger.”
“Let’s be honest, I could have the burger,” I countered, “but I don’t want the burger. Do you maybe want it?”
She was quiet a moment. “I do. Yes. It smells like heaven.”
I tipped my head at the bag. “It’s all yours. It’ll change your life.”
She walked in and snatched it off the tray table, then went back to stand in the doorway. “No more raised voices,” she ordered at the same moment Merrell yelled into his phone. “You,” she snapped at him.
He turned to look at her.