Dumplin - Julie Murphy Page 0,63

I got nothing.” He shakes his head, and I see the lines of exhaustion crowded around his mouth and eyes. “Give us a second chance. I’m begging you, Will.”

I open my mouth to say no, but nothing comes out. Ron’s always been so kind to me, and I think I owe it to him to at least pretend that I’ll think about it. “I’ll let you know by the end of the week. I’m going to have to think on it.”

He holds his hands up. “Fair enough. Fair enough.” He pulls his wallet from his back pocket. “I’ll take a cup of chili.”

I only see a few more customers for the rest of the night, which gives me far too much time to think. At first, I’m logical. You don’t make nearly as much money as you used to at Harpy’s and your car’s stuck in the shop. At least Harpy’s is busy enough to make the time go by faster.

Then I remember how lonely these last few weeks have felt. Millie, Hannah, Amanda, and Mitch, too, are okay—great even. But they’re no Ellen. The thought of going back to Harpy’s feels like comfort food. And not just because of Bo. I miss Marcus and Ron, too.

Bo was the reason I quit. The reason why I couldn’t bear to work there anymore. But now that anger I’ve trained myself to feel seems false. Like a pretense of what I thought it should be. And it’s pretty obvious he’s over me, too. I don’t know for sure, but I’ve heard whispers about him and Bekah. And if I don’t think about what it felt like to kiss him, then I can tell myself that they’re cute together. That they match. And maybe the burning that could only be jealousy will go away.

Before leaving work, I scrub everything down and refill the already stuffed condiment bar. I’m still thinking, I tell myself. I haven’t made up my mind. I say good night to Alejandro and get in my mom’s car.

Rather than turning left out of the Chili Bowl, my foot presses against the gas pedal, almost flying across the street and into the parking lot of Harpy’s. I have crossed the line in the sand.

The dining room doors are locked, but I bang on them anyway.

Marcus turns the lock and lets me in. “Whoa. Hey! What’s going on, Will? You smell like onions.”

Bo watches me from behind the counter with wide eyes and a twitching jaw.

I can’t look away. “Ron in his office?” I ask Marcus.

If Marcus would look up from the lock instead of fiddling with his huge ring of keys, he’d see everything that happened between Bo and me because in this moment it is so obvious. So open. So public. It’s all right there, splayed out like an open-heart surgery.

“Yeah, I think so.” He locks the door behind me, finally. “But you still haven’t said what you’re doing here.”

I don’t answer him. The butterflies in my stomach carry me through the break room and to Ron’s office. I knock on the open door.

Lydia is sitting in front of his desk on a crate. She turns at the sound of me. “Oh, thank Christ. The prodigal cashier has returned.” She stands and takes her pack of cigarettes from his desk. “I’ll leave you to it.” And once her back is turned to him, she gives me the tiniest smile as she closes the door.

Without bothering to sit, I turn to Ron. “I want a raise. And I’m going to need a couple days off for . . . for this thing I have.”

Without hesitating, Ron says, “I can do a seventy-five cent raise. And I’ll work with you on your schedule. We’ll figure it out.”

“Okay.” I didn’t expect that to be so simple. “Well, then it’s a deal.”

“You’re back?”

I nod. “I’m back.”

“That chili was really bad. I tried to eat it, but Lydia kept gagging every time she walked by my office. I think she was kidding, but still.”

“It’s pretty horrible.”

He chuckles. “I’m glad to have you back.” He stands and walks me through the kitchen to the front. We pass Bo and his eyes follow us all the way to the door. “Are you okay to start on Monday?”

“I’ll be there.”

He holds his hand out for me to shake, and I do.

I walk to my car as Bo’s gaze follows me; the feeling of it starts as a ball of heat in my chest and spreads like a sunrise.

FORTY

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