Page 31 of Chasing Home

Noticing me, Eliza pulls me to the sink so I can wash my hands. The water is cold, and I don’t give it time to warm up as I pump too much soap into my palm and scrub my skin until it’s pink instead of black with dirt. Then, once I’m clean, she shoves a plate at my chest.

“Dish up, Johnny. You’re always the last one in, and I’m tired of slapping greedy wrists while you’re busy puttin’ in more work than you need to be. Hurry up.”

“You’re sassy today,” I tease but do as she says.

The tortillas are still hot and steaming as I grab one and toss it on my plate. A vegetable tray rests on the opposite side of the sink, and I go to reach for the carrots when Eliza pinches my inner arm.

“Don’t just take the carrots. Take a bit of everything. That plate is for Aurora,” she whisper hisses.

I jerk, more alert. “She hasn’t eaten yet?”

“No. I couldn’t get her to come out here in time before this lot showed up and scared her half to death.”

Nodding, I start collecting a few of each vegetable and setting them on the plate, well enough away from the quesadillas with their gooey cheese in case she doesn’t like her food touching.

When the plate is full, Eliza swaps it for a new one, and I get my lunch served up.

“Go bring it to her. She’s in the office,” she urges as I grip both plates.

I drift my eyes to the empty pitchers and then slowly look back at her. She scoffs and takes two cups from the stack before turning to the fridge and pulling another jug out. My thirst intensifies as I stare at what I know is Eliza’s famous peach iced tea and wait for her to pour it into the cups.

“You’re just as bad as Banana, you know? Pouting and hoping to get your own way,” she chides, but there’s no heat in the words.

“You gotta stop givin’ in to them both, and maybe they’ll knock it off,” Wade grumbles, stomping past me toward his wife.

She flashes him a dazzling smile and pats his chest. “You know as well as I do that I can’t do that.”

He snorts and starts plating himself up some food. I take his entry as my cue to go, and Eliza helps slot the two drinks into my bent elbows before I leave.

I’m only jostled once, but I manage to keep all the food on the plates and the liquid in the cups. The office door is cracked open, and I nudge it further with my socked toes before stepping inside.

The clacking of a keyboard fills the room as Rory hunches over the desk and leans toward a computer screen. There’s a stack of papers beside her and a pen bouncing between her middle fingers as she hums a tune low in her throat.

It almost feels wrong to interrupt her concentration right now, but she needs to eat, and I need to sit beside her for a little while.

“I brought you some food.”

And company, if you’ll take it.

She jumps in surprise despite how gently I speak, and I smile apologetically when she whips around to face me. Her lips are parted, chest heaving as she scowls and uncurls the fingers that must have fallen to her lap.

With her hair up and braided down her back, I can almost see the thump of her pulse in her bare throat as she asks, “What are you doing in here? And what is that?”

“This?” I lift the plate in front of me. “This is your lunch.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Humour me. Eliza gets sad when people don’t eat her home-cooked meals.”

“It’s cruel to use an old lady to get your way.”

“If it means you won’t spend your day hungry, then I doubt she’ll mind.” I risk moving closer, and when she doesn’t tell me to leave, I walk the rest of the way to her. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I grabbed some of everything.”

She watches as I set the plate and cup of iced tea on the desk beside her computer mouse. Blue eyes scan the selection of food before skipping over the cauliflower, her nose crinkling slightly. I hyperfixate on that reaction.

“You don’t like cauliflower?” I ask.

Slowly, she lifts her stare to my plate, watching as I set it beside hers. “Apparently, you don’t either.”

---