Page 20 of Standing Still

“I’ll be fine Dawn. Once I’ve finished breakfast, I’ll go online and find something.” She gives me a huge grin and I can see she is plotting. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You forget I know you. What is it?”

“I was just thinking how fun it would be for you to stick around for the River Jam. We used to love it when we were kids.”

The festival runs from Friday to Sunday. That means staying a whole hell of a lot longer than I’d intended.

“Think about it, okay? Who knows how long it’ll be before we see you again after this visit?”

I gulp, feeling guilty, but Dawn just squeezes my hand. Then she says she has to use the bathroom. She slithers awkwardly off the stool as it took her a while to get into, but it was the only seat available in the diner when we got here for breakfast. I offer to help, but she waves me away. I drink my coffee, cradling it in my hands and staring at the array of bottled flavours for their various different coffees.

I’d been so embarrassed yesterday when I got myself together and pulled away from Ben. He hadn’t argued when I said I needed to leave. He’d walked me back to my car outside the restaurant.We still hadn’t come to any resolution over our issue, but he didn’t push it.

How can I leave now?

I spent the whole night tossing and turning, thinking about dad and Ben, the business, and my home in New York. I still have no idea what I’m going to do, but I can’t leave right now. There is far too much to wrap up here.

“Er, excuse me. Hi. I don’t mean to bother you,” the waitress I noticed earlier is standing in front of me. She’s holding the coffee jug in one hand, her other palm is pressed to the counter.

I immediately smile. I’m so used to people doing this. Although, perhaps I need to be more cautious, given where I am. Strangers approaching me here doesn’t necessarily mean they’re a fan. She’s petite, with shoulder-length blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Her uniform is snug on her voluptuous frame. I can tell she probably gets a lot of attention, but she doesn’t seem to flaunt it.

“You’re Elle George,” she says, her voice quiet, her eyes showing what seems to be fear.

“I’m sorry. Have we met?” I ask.

“Not really, but I remember you.”

My brows lift. “You don’t seem familiar. I’m sorry.”

“We never met. I’m sorry, I’m messing this up so bad.” she shakes her head and turns to put the coffee pot down. She wipes her hands on her apron. “I’m Claudia. Claudia Beaufort. I…” she gulps. “I knew Darren.”

The smile falls off my face and my heart begins beating too fast. I think about him all the time, but his name hasn’t been spoken in my presence for years.

I try to speak but have to clear my throat before I get the words out. “How did you know him?”

“Back in high school, we were friends,” she frowns, as if that isn’t what she wanted to say. She shakes her head slightly again.

“I don’t remember you from school,” I tell her. Darren was two years older than me, so we were at the high school at the same time.

“I never went to school here. I went to the Oxford Academy in Westbrook.”

“The boarding school?”

She nods and glances around as someone calls for a server. Someone else heads their way, obviously thinking Claudia is serving me. “It was difficult when he passed. It must have been so much worse for you and your family.”

She doesn’t know the half of it, but I keep the family history to myself. She is staring at me like she can’t believe I am standing here before her. And I don’t think it has anything to do with me being a semi-well-known author.

Without wanting to cast any aspersions on the woman, I wonder why someone with an expensive private boarding school education is working in a diner in Mystic, Connecticut. I won’t judge her, but this whole thing is a little odd.

“Did you know him well?” I ask. After the initial shock, I actually like the thought of speaking with someone who knew my brother.

She nods and for the first time since she mentioned him, a soft smile tilts her lips. Fond memories clearly filling her mind. Darren never said anything about having a girlfriend. He dated, for sure. He was a popular kid at school. He was the senior year quarterback, too good looking for his own good and he looked out for me, even though I sometimes annoyed him.

It was what made it so hard to comprehend how he could take his own life. He had no shortage of attention from girls. But there had never been anyone special to the best of my knowledge. Then again, it turned out I didn’t know my brother as well as I thought I did. I can’t imagine how he met a girl from all the way over in Westbrook.

Although Darren did used to go out a lot with friends, disappearing in his truck for hours on end. No one ever questioned him.

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