Page 43 of Home Changes
Chester reached for the coffee canister, muttering under his breath as he scooped grounds into the pot. “Well, if you’re makin’ breakfast, I prefer my eggs over medium to hard done. None of that runny yolk nonsense.”
She smiled, tension leaking out of her shoulders. “Got it.”
He turned to look at her again, brow furrowing. His eyes dropped to the oversized flannel shirt she wore. That look continued to be puzzled, which she was sorry for and happy about at the same time. Then he looked away, cleared his throat, and fussed with the coffee filter.
“Not my business,” he muttered. “You want to feed a man before daylight and wear a shirt as a dress, hell, that’s between you and society. Seen it all in my day.”
Allison covered her grin with the back of her hand, her cheeks burning with heat.
Behind her, bare feet whispered against the floorboards, and Seth’s hand landed lightly on her back as he stepped up beside her. “Morning, Dad.”
Chester didn’t look up. “Mornin’. You sleep good?”
Seth paused. “Yep.”
Chester poured water into the coffee maker. “Thought I heard thunder last night.”
Seth blinked. “Thunder?”
“Uh-huh. Lotta rumbling.”
Allison turned bright red. She could feel the heat creeping higher, and her pale complexion and red hair didn’t help cover up her embarrassment, not at being with Seth, but at Chester’s words. If the man ever put two and two together, she’d melt into the linoleum. Puddle, splat, gone.
Seth looked like he was going to choke on air. “Think the weather’s passed now,” he managed to say finally.
Chester looked up, one eyebrow raised. “What has?”
“Ah, the weather? All the rumbling?” Seth supplied.
“We had weather? Didn’t hear it.” Chester moved toward the table with a grunt and dropped into his seat before reaching for the paper. “Are you makingbreakfast? Eggs, girl. Medium to hard cooked. Don’t like runny yolks. Nasty stuff, that. And maybe some toast.”
Allison turned to Seth once Chester was buried in the crossword.
Seth leaned in, voice low and full of teasing amusement. “You okay?”
She nodded, smiling even as she whispered, “Your dad thinks I came over at sunrise to cook breakfast.”
Seth grinned. “Let him. We’re adults.”
And just like that, the awkwardness was gone. Not erased, but softened by the simplicity of the morning, the man who’d raised Seth, and the quiet promise that last night didn’t need to be hidden, it just didn’t need to be explained.
Allison rolled up her sleeves and reached for the pan. “Eggs. Medium to hard over and toast, coming up.”
Allison smiled allthe way back into town. Seth would be by shortly so Chester could sit out front of the general store with Delbert, even though it was closed on Sundays. That was their routine. Itgrounded Chester, gave him something to look forward to. She pulled around to the back of the bakery and put the truck in park. That was when she noticed the woman sitting on the steps to her bakery.
Slowly, Allison turned off the engine and climbed out of the cab, careful not to startle the figure hunched in layers of mismatched clothing. The woman looked up, her expression guarded and weary.
“Are you okay?” Allison asked gently, approaching with slow, steady steps.
The woman shook her head. She was trembling, arms wrapped tight around herself.
“Can I help you?” Allison pressed softly. “Let me take you upstairs to my apartment. You can get a shower, and we’ll figure this out. It doesn’t matter what kind of trouble you’re in. As long as you’re not a serial killer or anything.”
The woman rolled her eyes faintly, and Allison took that as a good sign.
“I’m not a killer,” she said.
Allison crouched down beside her, voice steady. “Then let me help you. My name’s Allison. I live here, but I think you already know that.”
