Alice toyed with a potato chip on her plate. “I moved away from Big Verde with my parents just before first grade, and I didn’t come back until the middle of eighth.”
“Why did you move?”
“My dad was accepted to medical school in Houston. It’s where I went to school. My junior high was huge, with a debate team and a literary club—”
Carmen snorted. “How’s the literary club in Big Verde?”
“Nonexistent. But I hear they have a debate team at the high school now. And of course, the library has its book club. Anyway, I didn’t really spend my formative years here. I’ve always wondered if maybe that’s why I don’t fit in.”
“My mind is blown,” Carmen said. “I would have thought you were everybody’s hometown girl.”
Alice laughed. “That would be Claire. And she was my best friend in kindergarten. But by the time we moved back, everyone had changed. You know how it is at that age. Claire had emerged from her cocoon with big boobs and naturally wavy hair and clear skin, and I had emerged from mine with braces, glasses, acne, and a training bra bought just for the hell of it.”
Carmen laughed. “See? You’re funny.”
Alice had never shared any of this with anyone, because she feared hurting their feelings. But she didn’t have to worry about that with Carmen. “Everyone already had their friends. Their cliques. And even though I’m technically related to half the folks in town, I didn’t really know them, and I kind of hovered on the perimeter. I finally stuck my head in a book and left it there until I graduated from high school.”
“I was super popular in high school,” Carmen said.
“Oh, that’s nice—”
“I’m lying. Holy shit, Alice. Look at me.”
Alice suddenly saw teenage Carmen. It didn’t matter that grown-up Carmen had her own TV show where she traveled to exotic places eating delicacies most folks had never even heard of or that she had three successful restaurants. Everyone carried the wounds of their childhood.
“I am looking at you. And you’re amazing and fantastic, and everyone in here is trying not to look at you, and it’s impossible. Because you’re magnetic.”
Carmen’s eyes actually teared up. She made a heart sign with her hands. “Back at you.”
Alice practically blushed. If only Carmen were around more, maybe she wouldn’t be so lonely.
“What did you do after high school? Where did you go to college?”
“I went to Rice for my undergrad studies—”
“Smarty-pants.”
“And Texas Woman’s University for grad school.” She took a sip of tea. “I came back to Big Verde because they needed a librarian—Eunice Pickles was let go quite suddenly—and I figured it would be good to get my feet wet in a small library before venturing on to bigger jobs.”
“And?”
“And then I just . . .” Goodness. It was like her lungs had suddenly run out of air. “Stayed.”
“Maybe you’re not really a small-town girl at heart. Like, maybe it’s just not your natural habitat.”
Alice bit her lip. “I’ve been invited to apply for a library management job in Austin,” she said quietly.
“Oh my God, Alice. You should apply! Austin is great. It’s amazing. Good music scene. Good food scene. And you’d still be in a library.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“What’s holding you back? At least apply. You don’t have to accept it if they offer it to you.”
Carmen was right. What could it hurt? There was absolutely zero commitment involved in simply applying.
Carmen’s eyes suddenly grew round and huge. “Oh my God.”
“What?”
“That kid you used to babysit just walked into the café looking way tastier than the lunch special.”
Beau wanted to turn right around and walk out. He should have known Alice would be here. He glanced at his brother, who suddenly didn’t look so hot, either. Something weird had happened between him and Carmen, but Bryce had never talked about it.
Beau raised an eyebrow. Want to head to the Dairy Dream instead?
Bryce nodded once. A burger sounds good.
“Montgomery boys!” Carmen hollered. “Over here! Come sit with us.”
“Oh God,” Bryce said under his breath. Beau snorted, even though he was experiencing a similar reaction.
Carmen moved to the other bench, next to Alice, who looked about as happy to see him as he was her. This was going to be a fun lunch.
“Let’s go,” he said to his brother. “No way out now.”
They nodded and said howdy to everyone as they made their way to the corner booth.
“I’ll bring you boys some menus,” Sally said.
“Don’t bother, Sally,” Beau said. “We know what we want.” They always ate the chicken-fried steak for lunch. Cowboying was hard work, and they’d usually done a good bit of it before most folks had even arrived at the office. This morning they’d castrated bull calves and assisted with vaccinations before coming into town on some errands. The afternoon would be spent in the blazing sun moving herds and checking levels at the various watering holes.
Lunch didn’t mean soups or salads for them.
“I’ll bring one anyway,” Sally said with a huge grin. “We have a new menu item.”
Beau sat first and scooted over to make room for his brother. “Thanks for inviting us to sit with you.”
“No problem,” Carmen said.
Sally came to the table and set down two glasses of tea and a pitcher for refills. Then she placed a menu in front of Beau and Bryce. Bryce tried to hand it back to her. “We’ll have the—”
“Chicken-fried steak. I know,” Sally said. “But here, look at this.”
She flipped the menu over to the breakfast side. “What do you think about that?” she asked, beaming. “Special number three.”
Beau stared at the menu, and all the letters started dancing. Twerking. Blending together. He glanced at Bryce, saw his grin, and tried to emulate it. Then Bryce laughed out loud, so Beau did, too.
“The Montgomery Special,” Bryce read. “Two identical pancakes, two identical eggs, two identical sausage links, and two identical buttermilk biscuits. If the Montgomery twins can gobble it up, you can, too!”
“Aw, that’s cool, Sally,” Beau said.
“It’s
