kinky position you guys want to try out next. Talk to her about what happened in her life outside of Chestertown. For both of you. Dip into the past so you can discover if there’s a real possibility of a future.”
Chapter Twenty-One
For most people, getting a text at five in the morning meant bad news. For Sydney, it just meant that Sanjay was up in whatever corner of the world he’d parked in. He never bothered with checking time zones. Mostly because everyone in their business never stayed in the same one long enough to get used to it.
Good thing opening the Mercantile had her alarm going off at oh-dark-thirty. But she’d barely had time to glance at the text before her dad made that tsking noise with his tongue. The one that nobody in the world made until the day they became a parent.
“Hon, stay off the phone. You don’t want to miss a customer.”
Seriously? Even the worms in the bait barrels weren’t awake yet. Her father still had the till open, restocking the cash drawer. “We’re not open, Dad. I could jitterbug naked and it wouldn’t matter.”
His lower lip jutted out. “It’d matter to me, and that’s the God’s honest truth.”
It was too early to fight with him. Besides, the text was probably just another pointed nudge from Sanjay to get her to commit to an interview for the Wanderlust job.
Then Sydney would have to text him back for the seventh time that she couldn’t do anything until Gram’s doctors cleared her back for work at the Merc. And it was too early for even that level of arguing, too.
She slid her phone into her pocket and picked up the wiping cloth to attack the fingerprints on the bakery case. “Got anything special lined up for today?”
“It depends.” Neil whacked a roll of quarters to break it open. “Are you going to start another kitchen fire? Cleaning up from one of those really steers me off course.”
“Ha ha. Very funny. It is March 1. I can definitively say it has been more than a solid month since my last kitchen mishap.” That he knew about, anyway.
The issue at home, when she’d accidentally microwaved a mug with metal engraving and set off sparks? Sydney blamed that on her sister being careless enough to own said mug. What good was it if it couldn’t go in the microwave?
“That’s true. I’m proud of you, hon. You didn’t just step up to fill your gram’s shoes. You’ve been working so hard to improve. I appreciate it.” Then his grin turned from paternal pride to pure wicked teasing. “I guarantee our customers do, too.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“I don’t even feel nervous about leaving you alone here while I run out to meet Devona for lunch.”
Sydney did a quick mental riffle through her hometown directory. It was assumed that she remembered everything about everyone. Most of the time she politely faked it until the pieces fell into place. This one, though, was unusual enough to stick out. “Do you mean Mom’s friend?”
Neil closed his eyes and firmed his lips for a second. Then he opened them and said calmly, “Your mom’s been gone a long time. We just call her my friend, now.”
Yikes. Sydney crumpled the cloth in her fist and hustled over to give him a hug. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive. I was trying to put a face to a name to a relationship without thinking it all the way through.”
“It’s fine, hon.” He patted her back and released her.
“I’m glad you two stayed friends.” More so than ever before. Sydney had spent so many years being active. Social. But until eight weeks ago, she’d never experienced friendships like she was building right here.
They were better. Stronger. Deeper. Not an obligation, or an extension of work. Not a potential networking politeness about who could be useful down the road. No, Sydney had zero reason to be friends with the Three Oaks crew—except for how much she cared for them. Treasured them as snarky, hardworking, a little zany, loyal-to-the-marrow people. Nora included. Who would’ve imagined that!
So she hoped, in all her adult hindsight, that her father had surrounded himself with strong friends when his life fell apart, twenty-three years ago. It made sense that her mom’s best friend would’ve gravitated to her dad. They were both probably searching for answers.
Ohhhh.
This was her moment. If Sydney was ever going to revisit the great, unsolved mystery that was her mother’s disappearance, the segue into it had just