Page 76 of Rules to Love By

“Use it. It has my number in it. And Ozzy’s and Lucky’s and the B and B.”

“I don’t need your phone.”

“It’s not mine anymore.” He poked another, newer model sitting on the arm of the swing. “Ozzy got me a new one. You have this one. It’s reformatted, and I put the new SIM card in it, so it’s all good.”

“I don’t need your phone.”

“Yes.” Tris dropped the phone into Marcus’s lap. “You do. And it’s still on our plan, so for now, don’t even worry about the bill.”

“Tris, will you stop? I can get my own phone.” He picked the thing up like touching it might sting. “Eventually.”

“Then eventually you can take over the bill for this one. It’s perfectly good. No point in it sitting around not getting used, right?”

“I don’t need your help!”

Tris curled a lip at his outburst, blinked, then pushed himself against the arm of the swing, dropping the bowl between them with a clang that caused Emma to scramble up over Marcus’s shoulder and sit on the back of the swing behind him.. “You help everyone, but then when you need help, you just get mad at us.”

“I’m not mad at anyone. I’m not mad at you. I’m sorry.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“No, I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“Just glad I didn’t bring up the diner—”

“Tris—”

“See?”

“See what?” He glared at Tris, phone clutched in cramped fingers.

“You get tetchy about it, so.”

“So don’t bring it up.” Hewasbeing tetchy. He couldn’t keep it out of his voice.

“Ozzy worries about it.”

“It’s dead,” Marcus snapped. “Johnathan killed it when he locked the doors. It was already on its way out when Iris had her first stroke. I just didn’t want to admit it.”

“Not the business. The building.”

“It’s just a bui—”

Tris clapped a hand over his mouth. “Seriously?” he hissed. He rolled his eyes back at the building behind them. “You gonna let this place hear you say that?”

Gripping his wrist, Marcus removed his hand. “The diner is not a Mildred, or Emma Joy, or even the barbershop.” Marcus pushed his hand away. And definitely didn’t pet the arm of the swing.

“Then why did you spend so much time fixing it up?”

“Ever hear of a health code violation?”

“Cleaning out the ventilation ducts and putting up sneeze guards was about health codes. Polishing the chrome on the stools was something else. Something more.”

Marcus poked bits of lettuce and grated carrots away from small flakes of salmon with his fork. “Aunt Iris liked the place to be as clean as possible.”

Emma crept along the swing’s back to take a closer look at what he was doing.

“Why are you pretending you didn’t care about that place just as much as she did?”

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