Page 29 of Red Hot Harmony

“Sometimes, Grandma can be a little...nuts,” Ally explained, looking at me, then she rubbed the cat’s head. “Bye, Tallulah.”

We drove in silence for a few minutes. It was weird. All of sudden, I—the master of words that always found their mark—didn’t know what to say.

During lessons, we talked about guitars. And now?

Ally went first. “You’re wearing last night’s clothes,” she blurted out.

“Yep.”

“Did you and my mom have sex?”

It was the first time in my life I’d choked on a stream of air while I was trying to breathe. A cough rattled my chest.

Ally reached for the volume control on the stereo system and cranked up the music. A soft tune poured from the speakers.

“So?” She glared at me and the glare spoke volumes.

I could feel its burn without even looking at her.

“No, we didn’t.” I cleared my throat. My fucked-up brain finally caught up, sentences finally started forming. “Even if we did, it’s none of your business, don’t you think, Hendrix?”

A pause.

“Do you suppose it’s fair she gets to date and I don’t?” Ally asked, tone matter-of-fact.

Shit, this wasn’t a conversation I was willing to have while navigating suburban traffic. “Are you hungry?”

“Are you buying?” There was a hint of a grin on her face, but she quickly pressed her lips into a thin line, a failed attempt to fool me.

“I guess I am.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

“Any good places around here?”

“You’re so out of touch with reality, dude. Of course there are.”

Ten minutes later, we were parking in front of a diner Ally claimed served the best pancakes in town. The crowd that filled the lobby and the outside sitting area indicated that the kid was possibly right.

And I hadn’t had any breakfast yet. The busted pipe at the store had made sure of that.

Luckily, there was no wait time and we were quickly escorted to a small table on the patio.

Ally ordered espresso.

I shuddered at the idea of drinking something hot in this weather and ordered iced tea.

“Aren’t you a little young for caffeine?” I asked, jerking my chin toward the mug she was holding.

“Really?” She arched her brow and slurped loudly as if to prove a point. “Aren’t you a little unqualified to tell me what I can consume?”

“Well, it depends.” I glanced at the menu and tried my best to ignore the smell of bacon wafting over from the kitchen. It was another unwanted reminder of how ravaged my insides were. “Hey, listen, what’s the deal with you and your mom?”

Ally set the cup down. “Nothing.”

“Come on. You—sleeping at Harper’s?”

“Never had a dad. Don’t need one now.” She hitched a shoulder.

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