without you.”
I returned to my post in time to see Alex pull Matt back from the departing group.
“What’s this sort-of cousin stuff?” he asked, not bothering to keep his voice down, perhaps thinking I was inside. “Is she or isn’t she?”
“Legally she is, but not really,” Matt replied. “She’s adopted.”
“Which means you can date her,” Alex said. “Are you interested?”
“No,” Matt answered quickly.
“Good. I am.”
“She’s got a mouth,” my cousin warned.
His friend shrugged. “Makes it easier to kiss.”
Matt must have made a strange face because Alex laughed at him, then walked off to join the others. Matt glanced back over his shoulder. His jaw dropped a little when he realized I was standing there.
I turned away just as the redhead was coming from inside the shop.
“Want to see how it looks?” she asked, smiling shyly.
“Miss Ginny told me to try these earrings with it. The stone is aquamarine.”
“I knew it would look great on you!”
She touched the stone lightly, then reluctantly reached back for the clasp.
“Too much?”
“Yes,” she said, handing it to me. I glanced at the tag.
“Whoa! That’s a lot of Big Macs.”
I put it back in the velvet case and she set the earrings next to it.
“I’m Sophie. Sophie Quinn.”
“Megan Tilby,” I told her.
“Nice to meet you. I, uh, was standing at the door when Matt was talking to Alex,” Sophie said. “Matt’s your cousin?”
“Legally.” Darn, I thought; now I’m making that distinction.
“I’m visiting for two weeks.”
“I hope you have a real good time. I probably shouldn’t ask this, but has Matt told you anything about the girls at school and, well, who he likes?”
I started to laugh at the thought of him confiding in me, then stifled it, realizing Sophie might have a crush on him.
“Why? Are you interested in him?”
She blushed a little. “Every girl in the senior class is interested in him,” she told me. “And Matt never lets on who he really likes, which makes all the girls crazy.”
I shook my head. “Sorry, I don’t have a clue. I don’t really know him.”
Sophie nodded. “I guess he’s just one of those people who gets along with everyone.”
Nearly everyone, I thought.
At four o’clock Ginny told me to take a break and sent me to Tea Leaves with some money. Figuring that tonight’s dinner would be leftovers from last night’s, I splurged and got a piece of chocolate cheesecake.
The cafe was a comfortable place with a worn tile floor and painted tables and chairs, none of the sets matching. At the back was a long glass case filled with bakery items, as well as a refrigerator case with yogurt and salads. A lady with fuzzy hair and a man who looked like a fifty-year-old Pillsbury Doughboy waited on customers. The man had a round, pleasant face that creased easily into a smile. He called many of the customers by name.
I carried my dessert to a table by the bay window, glad for a chance to sit down. There was a sign in the window, its letters faded but readable: Fortunes Told Here. Well, I didn’t need a psychic to tell me I was headed for two tough weeks.
Why did Matt dislike me so much? I wondered. I had never had trouble making friends. It was as if he’d made up his mind about me before we’d met.
I took a forkful of cheesecake, then another. Stop trying to figure Matt out, I told myself. He’s a jerk.
“Everything okay?”
The round-faced man had come from behind the counter to wipe down tables. “If you don’t like your selection, help yourself to something else.”
I realized I must have been frowning.
“Whatever you want. On the house,” he added.
“Oh, no!” I said quickly. “It’s the best cheesecake I’ve ever had.”
He smiled. “And you know, it doesn’t have a single calorie-as long as you just look at it.” He laughed at his own joke and I laughed with him. “You’re not one of my regulars,” he observed. “Just visiting for the day?”
“For a couple weeks,” I replied. “I’m staying with my grandmother.”
“And who might that be?”
“Helen Barnes.”
He stopped wiping a table and gazed at me with surprise. I readied myself for another strange Scarborough story, but as it turned out, I was the cause for amazement.
“I didn’t know she had a granddaughter.”
“And two grandsons,” I said. “I mean in addition to Matt. I have two younger brothers.”
He straightened up. “Really! So you all must be Carolyn’s children.”
“Carolyn and Kent Tilby.” I worked hard to keep my voice from sounding brittle. It wasn’t this man’s fault that Grandmother never mentioned us.
“The Tilbys. They had a farm up Oyster Creek. But they passed away.”
I nodded.
“Carolyn and Kent hooked up in college. I remember now.
I just didn’t know they had kids. Well, welcome. It’s a pleasure to have you. Tell your folks Jamie says hi. Riley’s the last name, though nobody calls me anything but Jamie.”
He held out a damp hand and I shook it. “Back when they knew me, my father ran this place, and I had dreams bigger than puff pastry. But it turned out baking is what I do well,” he added.
“Really well,” I agreed, sliding another bite of cheesecake into my mouth. “Who does the fortune- telling?”
“My mother.” He glanced toward the window. “I should get rid of that sign. She’s getting too old. Of course she’s always happy to do a reading for a local. How about it? I’m sure Mama would be interested to meet you,” he added before I could refuse. “She’s known the Scarboroughs all her life. When she was a teenager, she worked for them, even lived at the house for a while.”
“She did?” His mother would probably know if there was anything to Alice’s story. “I’d love to have my fortune told.”
“I’ll call upstairs and ask if she’s free. We live right above here,” he added, pointing to the stairway that ran up the side wall of the cafe. “Makes it an easy commute to work.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
After finishing the cheesecake, I walked over to the bakery case to buy some pastries for Ginny and muffins for myself. I had just made my final selection when I heard Jamie’s voice behind me: “Here she is, Mama.”
I turned around. Mrs. Riley was a small woman with dark brown hair, my grandmother’s age or older.
“Mama, this is Megan Tuby.”
“Hi, Mrs. Riley.”
She looked at me but didn’t speak.
“This is Mrs. Barnes’s granddaughter,” Jamie added a moment later. “Carolyn and Kent’s girl,” he said, as if trying to nudge a response from her.
But she just stared at me. The hair dye she used made her face look pale. The lines around her mouth were
