Nuts (Hudson Valley, #1)(82)

“And this must be your mother, Mrs. Maxwell. You know, I think you’ve been coming here all these years and never once made it into my diner. Now, how is that possible?” My mother moved across from Leo’s mother.

“You know how summers can be, so busy with guests and parties. I always mean to get into town when I visit, but Leo keeps me so busy back at the house,” she replied in that nasal, Northeast monied voice. A little bit Boston, little bit Hamptons, a lotta bit Upper East Side. “And I don’t think I quite caught your name, Mrs . . . ?”

“Just call me Trudy.”

Mrs. Maxwell smiled evenly, likely wondering how she’d suddenly become on a first-name basis with some hippie. She extended her hand across the Formica, a gesture that my mother ran away with.

“Say, look at that lifeline!” she exclaimed, turning Mrs. Maxwell’s hand over and examining her palm. “Unbroken, but this curious line here . . . hmmm . . . were you in an accident when you were a child?”

“Mom, lay off, huh?” I urged, placing my foot on top of hers behind the counter and pressing down. “Mrs. Maxwell, what can I get you? Cup of coffee? Cup of chili?” I’d just asked the equivalent of a modern-day Mrs. Rockefeller if she’d like a cup of chili?

Before she could answer, my mother stepped in. “Roxie, go brew Mrs. Maxwell a cup of my special black tea. I’m going to read your tea leaves!” My mother moved around the counter and tucked her arm through Mrs. Maxwell’s. “Come take a look at our jukebox; I bet you’ll know all the old classics from your teenage years—which were hopefully misspent.”

As Leo and I watched, our mouths ajar, my mother led his mother off to the old Wurlitzer. And Mrs. Maxwell, with years of good breeding, went politely along, smiling and nodding and likely thinking she’d indulge the townie for a little while before beating a retreat.

And as they were going one way, Chad and Logan came the other way, heading straight for the counter.

“What is happening?” I asked as Polly played unconcernedly with the buttons on Leo’s sleeve. As I looked closer, I noticed he was wearing very un-Leo clothing. White polo shirt, long sleeves rolled up. Khaki shorts. I peered over the counter to get a look at his feet. Sperrys. “What’s up, preppy?”

He grimaced. But before he could answer, Chad and Logan arrived.

“We need ice cream sodas, stat,” Chad announced, sinking onto the stool next to Polly and offering her his fist. “Hey there, Pollster, what’s going on?”

Polly bumped his fist. “Just hanging out with Roxie. Daddy, I also need an ice cream soda, splat.”

“Can you make mine chocolate?” Logan asked. “You have no idea the day we’ve had!” He leaned across Chad to offer Polly his own fist bump. “What’s up, little miss?”

“You have no idea the day I’ve had!” Polly echoed. “First, I almost flushed my Barbie down the toilet. Then, Grandmother and Daddy almost got in a fight about whether I should be allowed to try on her lipstick. And even though it’s probably not my color, it should be still my choice whether I get to try it on, right?”

“I totally agree,” Chad said.

“And then,” Polly said, knowing she had all eyes on her, “we get here, and Daddy says I can’t have a soda! And now the boys are getting ice cream sodas—how is that fair?”

Seven years old, just to remind you.

Polly, Chad, and Logan all looked at Leo.

“Ice cream sodas all around, please, Roxie,” he said with a sigh. “You still have that bottle of scotch hidden back there?”

“Roxie, how’s that black tea coming? Hop to it!” my mother called out from the front of the diner.

I escaped to the kitchen, where I was greeted with smoke pouring from the grill, the cheesesteaks now fried, and a burned-beyond-belief kielbasa.

“What is happening?” I asked the world one more time, and someone finally answered me.

“Crazy has come to Bailey Falls,” Leo said in a deep movie announcer’s voice, peering around the swinging door, coughing slightly at the smoke.

I nodded in agreement. “And its name is Mother.”

Once the smoke cleared and the sausage was put out of its misery, Leo reached out and tilted my chin up toward him. “You doing okay with all this, Sugar Snap?”

“I’m trying, Almanzo. I really am.” I sighed. I let him pull me into his arms, wrapping mine tightly around his waist, feeling his good strength seeping into me. Resting my chin on his chest, I gazed up at him, losing myself in the eyes I’d first looked into in this very kitchen, only two months before. I sighed, rising up onto my tiptoes. “A kiss would help.”

“Coming right up.” His lips pressed against mine, hungry and hot.

And when Maxine opened the door, asking where the black tea and ice cream sodas were, the entire world could see us.

I heard a gasp and we both broke the kiss, turning to see my mother and his, one with a look of delight, the other with a look of distinct displeasure.

Chad and Logan with big grins.

And Polly. Her eyes widened. Then filled with tears. Her face crumpled. She climbed off her stool, ran to her grandmother, and hid her face in Chanel No 5.

Leo’s hands fell from my skin like he’d been electrocuted. And the look on his face . . . oh.