She kept her eyes on Alton, bumping Grady intentionally with her shoulder. “But also remember that commitment is important.”
“So is finding joy in the everyday.” Grady pressed closer to the window, raising his voice over hers.
She ignored Grady’s elbow in her ribs. “Yes, but so is financial security and being there for the people you love.”
Alton backed away slowly, wary eyes darting between them like exhausted ping-pong balls. “So, is the life advice free, or will you add that to the company’s tab?”
“Oh, we’re adding it.” Grady straightened with a grin. “They can afford it.”
“They can also afford manners, and yet . . .” Alton’s voice trailed off as he lifted one hand in a wave.
Grady chuckled in his wake. He cupped his hands and shouted after him. “You’re gonna be just fine, Alton!” He shook his head, still laughing as he began cleaning up spilled cheese. “And you, too, by the way.” He raised his brows pointedly at Rory. “Even if you keep working jobs you hate.”
“You trying to get rid of me?”
Grady snorted. “Of course not. I need you.”
The sentiment was meant to be kind, but it felt more like a noose. Salsa Street did need her—and so did Hannah. If only Rory didn’t despise Mexican food at this point.
Rory helped him clean, swiping the mess into her hand with a napkin, her mind drifting into a happier place. StrongerMan99 would get a kick out of that exchange they’d just had with Alton. She couldn’t share any names, though. No hints of anyone or any places that would lead to identity recog—
“You’re doing it again.” Grady snapped open a new trash bag.
Rory cinched the full bag and lifted it from the can. She hated when Grady read her mind. “No, I’m not.”
He ignored her. “Are you ever going to meet this guy? Or should I tell your computer congratulations and get the wife to buy you guys a toaster?”
“Look, we can’t all marry our high school sweethearts and live happily ever after the traditional way like you and Nicole, okay?” Rory hefted the bag and opened the truck door. “Some of us have to get creative.”
“Have to? Hardly. You could walk down that street right there and have any date you wanted.” Grady gestured to the alley behind them. Then his eyes darkened. “But don’t do that. That’s dumb. You know not to do that, right? Bad example.”
“Relax. I’m not desperate. I’m not even really looking.” Rory hesitated at the bottom of the truck stairs as she shifted the bag from one hand to the other. “I just like chatting. Keeping it casual.”
“Casual, as in, perfect strangers.”
“It’s not like that.” In fact, she felt like she knew StrongerMan99 a lot more than most of her in-person friends. Grady perhaps being the one exception, but he was practically family. Come to think of it, StrongerMan99 probably knew more about her than Grady did. And they’d only been talking for about a month.
She knew StrongerMan99 despised cats, frequently ran 5Ks, had a love for classic literature, was secretly a softie for Hallmark movies, and actually enjoyed pineapple pizza. She knew he had one brother, his favorite NFL team was the Saints, he was confident enough to wear pink button-downs, and reluctantly knew all the words to “Ice Ice Baby.”
She just didn’t know his name. Or phone number. Or where he lived, except for somewhere within sixty miles of Longview, Texas. The odds of him living in her own small town of Modest, Texas, were pretty slim. After all, she knew everyone here. Which meant he could even be as far out as Tyler.
“You ever going to meet?” Grady repeated his question, the one Rory thought she had so carefully dodged.
She rolled in her bottom lip. She’d considered bringing the idea up to StrongerMan99 a million times, but each time, dismissed the thought before it could escape her fingers on the keyboard. Had he done the same?
“We have a good thing going now as friends.” She didn’t want to jeopardize that. There was something so safe about having a friend—even a flirty friend—who knew so much about you, yet didn’t know the less-attractive, in-person parts. The rejectable parts.
She’d had enough rejection.
“But what if you could have a better thing going?” Grady gestured with the damp rag he held. “Like, you know. Marriage and kids.”
She wanted those things. One day. But . . . “I don’t like change.”
His expression softened. “I know. There’s been a lot of it lately.”
She nodded, blinking back the memories. Sophia had served more as a mother figure to Rory over the years than an aunt. She didn’t deserve to die in her fifties. Didn’t deserve the cancer that stole her hair and her health but never her smile. If Rory turned into even half the vibrant, vivacious, caring woman Sophia was, she’d be doing well.
Rory might be one-fourth Mexican, but as it was, she wasn’t remotely one-fourth of the way to being as good of a woman as her aunt.
Grady’s voice cracked. “I miss her too.”
Rory lifted the bag, her throat tight. “I’ve got to—”
“I know, I know.” Grady held up both hands in surrender. “Too mushy.” He called over his shoulder. “I’ll just go light this cilantro candle I brought for you.”
The building knot in her throat dissolved into a giggle. She headed for the dumpster, her chest releasing with each deep breath. Despite the turmoil of the last year—of Thomas calling it quits, of her aunt passing—she really was blessed. Anxiety was an old acquaintance that always exceeded its welcome. Time to kick it out the door again for today.
She inhaled deeply, tilting her face to the sun, counting her blessings. She had a lot on her shoulders, sure, and business had slowed, but they were hanging in there. Hopefully the upcoming summer food festival would give them their annual boost of income. She had this online friendship she looked forward to. She had the best brother she could ever need in Grady. And she
