Page 125 of Pinkie Promise

With shaking fingers I pick up the paper, dizzy with the fact that fate itself left it right here for me to find, and I begin reading through the article, my patrons long forgotten. I’m so enraptured with everything that the journalist has written about Hunter’s undisputable NHL future that when a small knock sounds out behind me I yelp and gasp, dropping the paper before spinning around, totally startled.

The owner of the diner looks at me with an equally surprised expression as she drops her fist from the doorframe, sending me a small nervous smile as ifshewas the one caught doing something wrong.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I say quickly, brushing my loose curls out of my face and stuffing my glasses back into my apron. “I literally… I don’t even know what I was doing back here… I just got distracted and I–”

She shakes her head, glancing briefly at the paper that is now lying face-up on the floor.

Her eyes shoot back to mine, her smile becoming a little strained. “It’s no worries,” she says, before gesturing behind her toward the main room. “We just filled another table so I was wondering if you could run me their orders is all?”

I’m borderline palpitating. I can’t believe that I just risked my job like this – sniffing around in my boss’s office while she is literally in the back kitchen. What the hell is wrong with me?

“I’m so sorry,” I say again, my temples aching. My behaviour just now was downright stupid. “I just saw the paper and I–”

She releases a nervous laugh and says lightly, “The paper? Oh right. Yeah. Well, we just had it delivered so I thought I’d toss it in here for now.” She swipes quickly at her forehead before saying in a gently urging tone, “If you wouldn’t mind taking the orders at that new table, honey…”

I nod immediately because I like my boss. We don’t have much reason to talk during my shifts but the pay is good and she has the kind of sweet maternal energy that I’ve never experienced before.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say, swallowing thickly. “And, again, I’m totally sorry–”

She waves me off, her eyes straying back to the paper. “No worries, honey. I’ll be out front in a minute.”

I scamper out of the room, scooting quickly beneath the counter, before pulling up at the new table and jotting down their orders.

No more falls or failings, I remind myself.You secured this job and you willnotmess it up.

I’m unbelievably grateful tohavea college job, so the idea that I could have put it at risk just there makes my stomach hollow out a little, my brain feeling fuzzy.

Just as I slip back behind the counter to pour up a batch of coffees the door chimes open and a young-looking delivery guy walks in.

I set the cafetière down and smile, the universal gesture forwhat can I do for you?

“Hey,” he says, his breathing laboured like he just ran to get here. “Sorry I’m late.”

I laugh in surprise and shake my head.

“Late?” I ask. “Did we order something?”

He drops a large cardboard box onto the counter, before whipping out his electronic receipt-of-delivery pad. “It’s the papers that Willa ordered – kind of a special thing for her, you know?”

He hands me the pad and the digital pen so that I can mark the item as received, but I look up at him while I scribble in my signature, a little confused.

“I, uh…” I finish writing in my name and pass the machine back to him. “I was just talking to Willa… I thought that the papers had already been delivered?”

“Huh?” he asks, his eyes still focused on the device. “Oh, uh, maybe she meant that she’d already bought one in town. She ordered these Special Delivery on Friday so that she had a bunch of them ready – dunno what she’s gonna do with them all but she’s a proud mom, you know? It’s what moms do when their kid’s in the paper.”

I blink at him, my head tilted to the side, not understanding why Willa would lie about a paper delivery.

An odd sense of foreboding settles in my gut, but I brush it off as generalised paranoia.

“…Right,” I say, pulling the box over to my side of the counter.

And that would have been the end of it, if I hadn’t seen the name at the top of the address.

My eyes fly up to the delivery guy just as he turns on his heel to leave.

“Hey, wait,” I say quickly, my blood pounding in my ears.

That can’t be right, I think to myself.There’s just no way.

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