Buns (Hudson Valley #3)

I looked out the large picture window in the front of the diner, the late-afternoon sun shining down brightly through the trees. Green was busting out all over, from the tips of the trees to the onion grass beginning to tuft up the front lawns. Crocuses peeked out from behind tree trunks and around a few listless leftover snow piles; daffodils and tulips had begun pushing up through the earth. From the window I could see the four streets that made up the town square, and people were out and about for their afternoon shopping. There was a mom-and-pop grocery just across the square, a dance studio, a jewelry store, and what looked like an incredible dive bar. As I watched couples walking hand in hand, families with small kids, and older couples hurrying home from their shopping, everyone seemed happy. Everyone smiled at each other, and more often than not, they seemed to actually know the people they were passing.


“Roxie calls this place Mayberry,” I mused.

“Correction, she calls it fucking Mayberry.”

I folded my napkin in half. “I don’t know why people always say that like it’s a bad thing, there’s definitely something to be said for fucking Mayberry.”

“It has its moments,” he agreed.

“I watched a lot of Nick at Nite when I was a kid, and I loved reruns of The Andy Griffith Show.”

Chad smiled, and began to whistle the theme song.

“It’s funny that Roxie had to move away to realize what she had here growing up.” What I didn’t say was that what she had here was something I would’ve killed for. Everything about this town screamed happiness, comfort, community.

Safety.

“Sometimes you need a different perspective to see it, though, you know? I never thought I’d come back, but seeing it through Logan’s eyes? It fit. He came from a small town, and he always knew he wanted to end up there. Me, I figured I’d stay in the city.”

“Manhattan?”

“Up here if you say the city it’s just assumed you mean Manhattan. Basketball means the Knicks, baseball means the Yankees.”

I laughed. “I know a bunch of Red Sox fans back home who’d say otherwise.”

He groaned. “Oh man, I’ve been trying to place that accent. You’re from Boston?”

“Born and raised.”

“What part?”

I hesitated for just the tiniest of seconds. “All over, mostly South Boston.”

“There was a guy I went to business school with from Boston, Back Bay, I think?”

I snorted. “Yeah, that was not my neighborhood.”

“Is your family still there?”

My ears burned. “No. Are we getting cake? Let’s get some cake.” I waved at Trudy and mouthed the word dessert at her.

“You are full of mysteries, aren’t you?”

“Who, me? I’m the most boring.” I folded my napkin again.

“Okay, little miss make out in the alley.”

“What alley?” Trudy asked, setting down the dessert menu.

“No alley, no nothing,” I chirped, flashing a “keep quiet” glance at Chad. “How’s the black walnut cake?”

“Roxie says it’s awesome.” Trudy laughed. “Don’t tell my daughter, but I also think it’s awesome.”

“I’ll take the awesome, then,” I replied.

“Make it two awesomes,” Chad agreed.

Trudy headed back to the kitchen, and I shook my head at Chad. “You, shut up with your alley talk.”

“I will if you spill.”

“Oh God, you’re rhyming now?” I held my head in my hands. “Seriously, you can’t tell anyone. No one knows.”

“I am great with a secret. Just ask Homer over at the hardware store—no one but me knows about those magazines he keeps under the counter.”

“And now me.”

He looked crestfallen. “Oh shit. Oops. The point is, though, I can keep a secret. Logan and I haven’t told anyone you’re schtupping the hot hotel guy—”

“I am not schtupping the hot hotel guy!”

“—but believe me, we’ve been talking about it nonstop ever since we saw you in the alley”—Trudy showed up with two pieces of cake and a curious look on her face just then—“alley, alley cat. We want to adopt an alley cat. We’re thinking about a pet, so it just makes sense to pick up one of those alley cats, right?” He nodded at me enthusiastically, which I mimicked vigorously.

“Well, you’re in luck, I heard quite the racket the other night in the alley, almost like a moaning . . . must’ve been one of those alley cats in heat,” Trudy said.

Chad and I both shoved enormous bites of cake in our mouths. She looked at us like we were crazy, and headed back to the kitchen, shaking her head.

“This is fucking great,” I said over the mouthful.

“It is,” he said, “and what else would be great is if you’d tell me the goddamn story before I actually have to get a goddamn cat.”

“Ah jeez, how did we get onto this?”

“We got onto this because you got onto that,” he said, pointing with his fork. “So how long has that been going on?”

“Okay look, there’s nothing going on. Not officially. Or unofficially for that matter.” I licked a bit of walnut off the tines of my fork, thinking back to that night. The way he’d pushed me up against the wall, the way his eyes seemed to glow when he looked at me, when he pressed into me and his fingers dug into my skin. “I will say, however, when you caught us in the alley, thank God you did because holy fuck can that man kiss like it’s going out of style, and if you hadn’t come along . . .”

Chad practically wiggled out of his seat he was so jubilant. “I knew it! I always knew that guy had it in him, he’s always so together and serious and buttoned-up, but secretly you just know guys like that are wild in the sack. Tell me he is, even if he isn’t, lie to me. But just make it a good lie, lots of details.”

“Okay, slow down there, Councilman. I barely know you.”

“By proxy,” he said, although it was muffled by more cake.

“Pardon me?”

“By proxy, you know me by proxy through Roxie. Hey look, I am rhyming.”

“I can’t believe this conversation.”

“The point is, I’ve known Roxie practically my entire life. And Natalie, I’ve got that girl wrapped around my little finger. They’re your best friends, right?”

“Right?” I frowned, trying to follow the logic.

“So there, you and me, by proxy, are besties too. So gimme the dirt.”

“Oh my God,” I said, dropping my fork with a clatter. “If I had one wish, one wish in the world, it’d be to go back to that night and make sure you never saw us.”

“And if I had one wish it’d be to go back five minutes earlier so I could see more of that super-hot make-out session.” He grinned, waggling his eyebrows. “So give it up, girlie.”

I folded my napkin, making it into a tight little origami-style ball. “Okay, you got me. I was making out with my boss, or boss’s son, I don’t honestly know which is worse. And it was hot. Crazy hot. And crazy stupid, which is why you can’t tell anyone. Like, this is really bad, I’ve never done this before, I’m breaking literally every rule in the book. So please, you can’t talk about this outside this table, right here, right now.”

“Are we really back to that? I promise you, mum’s the word.” He patted my hand. “But come on, gimme something.”

I sighed, then looked him dead in the eye. “He’s got the softest lips.”

His eyes widened. “I love it.”

My eyes narrowed. “And very large hands.”

“Stop it.”

“And he’s still wearing his wedding ring.”

“Hmm.”

“But that’s not weird, right? I mean, they were together a long time.”