Page 16 of Spring Rains

“And pie?” Fox asked. “I could eat pie.”

He pulled his scarf up around his mouth, muffling his voice, and fuck, it was freezing in here.

“What about the McDonalds you wanted?” I asked.

Fox stared at me. “I could do pie,thenMcDonalds,” he said, then a smile lit his eyes. “I’m a growing boy.”

“Sounds good,” Chris offered, and then he smiled. “I could tell you about the school as well, if you’re interested?”

Fox was less enthusiastic about the school thing, but Chris had gotten him at the word pie. Wecouldgo to JJ’s, have pie, get out of our coats, maybe talk, and I might even flirt, just to see if Chris was flirting with me?

No.

This attraction to Chris took me by surprise. He was a whole different package to my ex, and he had so much sexy going on that I was drawn to him. His gorgeous eyes didn’t hold anger, or hate, or confidence that no one would stand up to him. They held something like compassion, and interest.

But, as quickly as the attraction surfaced, so did a wave of conflicting emotions. The ink on my divorce papers was barely dry, and yet, I was feeling drawn to another man who might mess with my life, and take me away from what I should focus on—Fox, and the diner, and our new beginning. It felt too soon, too raw, given I was still untangling the complicated web of my failed marriage, still trying to navigate my new reality as a single parent with no money and with nothing but an old diner to my name. And then, there was Fox to consider. He was my priority, and the last thing I wanted was to introduce more upheaval into his life, especially when he was still adjusting to the massive changes we were both facing.

But the realization that I was even capable of feeling attraction to someone else was disconcerting, and I wasn’t entirely ready for it with how much guilt I still felt. I shouldn’t even be thinking about Chris, however fleeting the thought might be. I didn’t even know if he was straight or gay or bi or…

As I stood there, trying to reconcile all the conflicting feelings, I knew it was okay to find Chris attractive, but it didn’t mean I had to act on it by flirting back.

That started with keeping my distance.

“We really need to head over to Collier Springs,” I said. “Maybe another time?”

Chris didn’t seem upset by that, nor did he push. Instead, he spoke to Fox. “Guess I’ll see you at school? Tomorrow?”

Fox grumbled under his scarf. “Sure,” he said as politely as he could manage, which sounded okay to my ear. Chris sent me a knowing smile, as if he was confiding that he knew all about teenagers.

Then, he left the diner, bumping over the raised jamb. It could only have been a few seconds later when the lights in the kitchen turned on, and a hum from the refrigerator was loud in the silence. I didn’t dare think about what the poor refrigerator would be like after all this time, and I focused instead on putting on the heating and turning out the kitchen light before flicking on the light in the main seating area. I needed to invest in timers, but the thought of the place lit up was good in that it might act as a deterrent to vandals.

“Should be warmer by tomorrow,” I reassured Fox, who was back on his phone. “Let’s go.”

I locked up, and we headed out.

But I couldn’t shake the image of Chris asking us out for pie from my thoughts.

And that was dangerous.

ChapterEight

Chris

Monday morningsat Collier Springs High School usually began with the hustle of students and the ringing of the first bell; however, this particular Monday was different because, as soon as I entered and wheeled myself toward the staff room coffee machine, Evie Turner—principal extraordinaire—tracked me down and summoned me to her office.

As I followed her down the familiar corridors, the tires of my wheelchair squeaking on the linoleum, I went through all the possibilities of what I might have done now. Last semester, I’d gotten into hot water for chairing a lively debate about queer novels in the AP English class, although theconcernwasn’t coming from Evie, but an anxious parent—Ainsley McKenna’s dad—who didn’t want any teacher turning their kid gay. It wouldn't have been significant if Pastor McKenna didn't have positions on the school board and at a local church. Ainsley, thankfully, was nothing like his dad, which was a good thing given he was best friends with another student in my homeroom, Clarke, who sported pink streaks in his hair and didn’t care who knew he was gay. I suspected Ainsley wasn’t straight, and I tried to make my classroom an open and safe environment. If anything, it was in the hope that, one day, I could help him the same I had help at school and outside with all kinds of things. Or indeed, any other kid who needed a sounding board.

Like about being queer. Or losing part of my leg and seizing my life back after I’d decided it wasn’t worth living.

Let’s focus on today, yeah? Come on Chris, up and at ‘em … or rather, up and wheel at ’em.

I chuckled at my own stupid joke, but stopped when the principal shot me one of her quirked eyebrow looks of concern.

Uh oh. Busted.

I couldn’t recall having messed up anything since the great gay lit debate, but seeing Jerry Hensley—a fellow teacher, the PE coordinator, and my friend—hovering at the principal’s door hinted that this was about the sports department, in particular baseball, which would be my territory, and probably soccer, which was Jerry’s.

“Hi.” I offered a fist to Jerry, which he bumped as he sat on the visitor’s chair, and then, we followed Principal Turner into the room. He waited until I’d maneuvered myself in before closing the door.