and as far as she knew he didn’t have any kids.
She waited for him to ask about Anna. If he did, she was ready to get in a fight in defense of Anna. If anyone asked.
But he didn’t ask about Anna.
She waited for him to ask about the funeral. He didn’t.
She wasn’t sure that Adam had been there.
Adam might have been one of the few people in town who didn’t know her dad in some capacity. Maybe that was another reason she liked the diner. It felt like a different town sometimes.
Maybe that was why this was her mom’s preferred dinner spot.
She hadn’t really thought of that before.
“Coffee and a doughnut?” she asked.
“No protein?” he asked.
“I didn’t ask for a side of judgment.”
“The judgment is on the house.”
The front door pushed open, and her friend Catherine came in, breathless and red-cheeked. They’d been in pretty constant text contact since the funeral and they’d exchanged a few OMGs about church and Anna, but they hadn’t actually talked. Catherine sat down at a table in the corner, the one with the clear view across the street. “Thanks, I...”
“I’ll bring it to your table. Hold the judgment.”
She nodded and walked away from the counter and over toward the white-and-silver-flecked table where Catherine had taken position, her back to the window, offering Emma the best view.
“This is a great sacrifice,” Catherine said.
“I know,” Emma replied. “I appreciate it.”
“Well, are you ever going to talk to him?”
“No. I’m absolutely never going to talk to him. You made a very good point when you said it’s probably for the best he doesn’t know who I am.”
“You’re just going to stare at him?”
“Yes. I am just going to stare at him. I don’t need to date anyone right now. I need to get good grades so I can get into the school I want to go to, and then I’ll be in college and I’ll be busy.”
“Boston still?”
Her stomach fell. She’d been avoiding having this talk. “No.”
“Em, didn’t you get in? I didn’t want to ask because of your dad, but when you didn’t say anything—”
“I—I got in.” She hadn’t said those words out loud. “I lied to my mom about it.”
“Emma!”
“I got the letter the day he died,” she said, her eyes feeling scratchy. “And I was so excited and I wanted to tell him and he was gone. And then I looked at my mom and realized I would be telling her I was leaving and I can’t—I can’t leave her. And I don’t want her to feel responsible for it.”
“Emma, that’s not like you. I mean, it is like you. Protecting your mom. But not lying. And you want to go to Boston...”
“OSU has a great marine-biology program and it’s like three hours away.”
Catherine’s face fell. “But it’s not the same as Boston. By any means. You could go live in one of the most historic cities in the country, and isn’t there a specific aquarium there you want to work with?”
“It’s not important,” she said.
“It’s not important that we go to the same school?” Her friend looked wounded and it made Emma want to growl. She didn’t have the energy for someone else’s wound.
“That’s not what I mean.” She looked down. “I wanted it, but things changed. Anyway, it’s not like I’m abandoning my plans to go to college. I’m just altering course a little bit.” Her friend just stared at her. “Don’t look at me like that. It makes sense.”
“I mean, I guess. I mean, it makes more sense than never talking to the guy you had a thing for for years.”
“I didn’t ask.” She was grateful, though, for the conversation shift.
Catherine shrugged. “That’s fine. I don’t need to be asked.”
The coffee and doughnut materialized, as did a mug of coffee for Catherine, even though she hadn’t ordered it.
“I don’t want coffee,” Catherine said.
“Why not?” Adam raised an eyebrow.
“Because diner coffee,” Catherine said.
“I can see how somewhere in your teenage head that made sense, but you know I run a diner, so maybe diner coffee being used to explain why you think my coffee is terrible isn’t the best route to take. Especially when it’s being given for free.”
“Our judgment is free, too, Adam,” Emma pointed out.
She nearly earned a smile from him. But only nearly.
“Sorry,” Catherine said, and she immediately began emptying sugar packets into the cup.
Satisfied, Adam turned and left them.
And that was when he appeared. His truck was loud driving down the quiet main street of town, and when