Chapter Seven

The week passed in a blur, but it had been long enough for Wren to forget about me. Even though I wanted to, I didn't reach out, and neither did he. Campbell's Home was back in business. After a week of preparations, we opened our doors again, and the public greeted us in droves.

I hadn't sat down since the moment we opened this morning. And now, heading into lunch, the restaurant was packed. Nadia charmed the line outside with her readings, and the rest of us busted our tails to keep up with the crowd.

They were here because of me—well, because of Wren. He may have forgotten his little impromptu confession, but the town hadn't. And after a few social media posts blew up about our food, Campbell's Home was the place to be.

"You got the next two?" Shae juggled an army of plates in their hands, eyeing the two open tables near the door.

I hopped off the fryer and scurried back to the front. With a pen and pad in hand, I watched the restaurant's attention bend at the will of our new customers. Wren entered, trailing behind Da-Bin and Valentina. Zacari chatted the trio up as he offered them a booth. Consciously wiping the sweat from my forehead, my body went rigid when he found me. A smile burrowed into his lips and he offered me a small nod.

"Oh, ain't that your boyfriend, Songbird?" Shae cackled, garnering the attention of the customers nearby.

I shoved them in the arm as embarrassment captured me still. "Stop."

Wren didn't take his eyes off of me. As if under a spell, I felt trapped under his gaze. Floating above the ground, grace knew no limits as I took airy steps to their table.

To my surprise, it was Valentina who spoke first. "You guys been busy. That's good."

"Thanks." Wringing the notepad in my sweaty palms, I could feel his stare. I tried my best to ignore. "How long did you wait?"

Da-Bin nodded his head towards Wren, finally giving me a reason to look. "Not long with him," he answered.

Electricity rippled through my bloodstream when our eyes met again. How could I feel more now than I ever did before? He seemed to notice, leaning in. Even his body heat delighted me, but I pulled my gaze away and addressed them properly, "What can I get you?"

"That's it?" He bid for my attention. "I haven't seen you in a week and you don't even say hi?"

A meek breath funneled through my lips. "Hi."

"Hi, Songbird," he practically whispered, basking in my sudden nerves.

"Oh my God," Valentina croaked. "Do this later. I'm hungry."

After their orders were confirmed, I found myself back in the kitchen where Shae was all smiles.

Filling three glasses with orange juice, I swatted them away. "Shut up."

I was back in server mode. There was still a table I hadn't greeted. Thankfully, they were still looking over the menu, but I needed to work faster. I managed to place their drinks down, only to feel Wren's warm, callous fingers wrapped around my hand. "Wait."

Shae served a group of girls and they let out a collection of gasps. Shae peeled their attention away to look back as Wren whispered in my ear. "I brought something for you."

Twirling a small purple flower between his two fingers, he placed it behind my ear. "Since you're not a fan of bouquets."

The group squealed, and Shae rubbernecked their commotion. A light gargle sound came from my right when Valentina pretended to gag.

"He practiced that line on the way here." Da-Bin offered a round of applause.

"And it was even worse in action," Valentina droned.

I pressed the flower on top of my ear and turned back to my duties. By the time I made it to my next table, they had their orders ready. Bolting back to the kitchen, I tried to place my order on the rack, but my father took it before I could. "You flirting or working?" he asked.

I could feel my cheeks ignite in heat. Thank God Wren didn't hear that. "Working."

My father was right. Now was not the time. Wren was distracting, so until I needed to go back to his table, I wouldn't. That didn't stop him from staring at me, though. I could feel him looking at me even when he wasn't.

"Nora?" he called when I passed by.

"Leave her alone." Valentina defended. "She's working."

When I looked back to give her a thankful nod, Wren shot up from his seat. A pout formed on his lips and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Make sure I get a speech at y'all's wedding." Shae teased.

Flutters erupted from my belly and I turned back to the crowd. Shae said nothing more, turning up the radio when Lauryn Hill's version of Can't Take My Eyes Off of You came on. The mood had considerably lifted and for the first time, I worked as if expecting something at the end of the day. Though I was sure Wren realized whatever he wanted from me, he wasn't going to get, I reveled in the time he was here. Like I had all the times our lives collided.

I finally plated their food, and I made my way back to them. Nadia scampered away, clutching a five-dollar bill in her hands. "Why did you give my little sister money?"

Taking the plates from my hand, Wren sat them in front of his friends. "She gave me a palm reading."

"She does palm readings too?" I asked.

"What are you doing after this?" he asked, drenching his chicken and waffles in our homemade syrup.

"W-what?"

"After you get off work? Got plans?"

"She doesn't," Shae twirled around the block, interjecting before I could answer.

Zacari popped up from the other booth. "Please take her somewhere, so she can stop forcing me to do schoolwork."

"Nora," Wren chided. "It's summer."

"Nora?" my father shouted from the back, making Shae and Zacari hurry to their tables. He leaned on the breakfast bar with hooded eyes.

"I've got to—"

"That's your dad?" Wren asked when their eyes met. My father was in protective mood, but if he actually talked to him, he'd see they were more alike than he could ever imagine.

"Yeah." I pushed off my feet. Before I could leave, Wren placed his hand on top of mine.

"Talk to him yet?"

"I never said I was."

An airy laugh tumbled out and he leaned back. "I thought I was more persuasive than that."

"Did you know a good way to persuade someone is by giving them something?" Valentina said, swallowing a chunk of hash browns. "Like if you go into a store and they hand you a complimentary gift, you're more likely to spend your money there."

Da-Bin snapped his fingers, armed with a memory. "Like that one time, I gave a tip to our waiter after they gave us a crap ton of mints and Val told me I was being manipulated."

"You were," she countered. "If your waiter gives you something at the end of your meal 'to be nice' they're really just persuading you to give them a tip."

Wren looked at me. "What do you think, Nora? Do you give people anything before they leave?"

"Sometimes I give customers a box of cornbread for the road."

They erupted in laughter as Valentina dropped her invisible mic. "Boom. But the best persuasion tactic is being likable."

"Easier for some than others," Shae twisted around a table, never missing a beat.

"Compliments, using someone's name as often as you can, letting the other person talk about themselves. All the work of a charming, psychological bullshitter."

That sounded like someone I knew. Pointing to Wren, he raised his hands in protest. "No, no. I'm not doing that on—"

"Nora." My father shouted, disrupting the ambiance. When he had my full attention, he curled his index finger. "Come here."

Ripping me from my playful mood, I walked back to him. My footsteps felt like bricks falling to the ground.

"You supposed to be working. What you doing?" He maneuvered around the tight kitchen before handing me an order of fried chicken.

"I am working."

"I rang the bell five times, telling you your order was up and you ain't hear it because you too busy talking. You can have fun later, not on the clock."

A stifled laugh clipped my words. "When am I not on the clock? I'm always working."

"What?" He took the plate from me and burrowed his fingers into my shoulders. "Nora, this is my restaurant. We can't be slipping. This the most customers I ever had. I need to make a good impression."

"I thought this was our restaurant."

He threw his head back in contempt. There was a line one of us was about to cross. And he made it apparent when he pleaded, "Don't do this."

"I'm not doing anything. I'll make sure your restaurant does well."

"Alright, no." He snatched off his apron and threw his hand into the air. "Upstairs. Arnold, take over. I'mma be right back."

Our footsteps broke like thunder as if a battle awaited upstairs. I could feel his looming presence tower over me and I turned around.

"You got a problem or something? You know I don't like us working like this?" He was already trying to put the blame on me. Twisting his words to make me feel like I was the one in the wrong.

"I'm fine. I don't know why you brought me all the way up here."

"You not fine. Clearly. You mad I told you to stop talking to your lil boyfriend while at work." He pointed. "You have a job to do, Nora."

"I know that." My annoyance had bubbled over. He wanted control. Always and for something small, he'd lose his mind if it slipped from his hands. "God, you just hate to see me do anything other than assist you."

"What?"

My body rattled. I wanted to say more, but I caught him off guard. No need for a battle if the other wasn't prepared. "Nothing."

"Naw, we done started it now. Might as well finish." He took a stand. Crossing his arms, he puffed out his chest. "You think I don't want to see you happy?"

"No, I didn't—"

"So, I'm the bad guy, huh?" He wouldn't let me get away with it. He would pick and prod until I could no longer take it. "A man who wants to provide for his family. I'm the one who don't want you to be happy? Nora, I'm doing this for you to be happy."

"Well, it sure would be nice to know when the happiness part of your plan will start."

"Really?" A chill rippled through his features. I confirmed his biggest fear, so he threw mine back at me. "You the one trying to kill your Ma'."

"You already did!"

"That's what you think?" The finality in his voice was almost tangible, but I wouldn't take blame for this. Not my mother.

"I know you feel that way too. This would've never happened if she wasn't so caught up in making sure your restaurant succeeded. She gave and gave herself and couldn't stop. She had a brain tumor and she ignored everything for you!" My voice bounced off the walls and suddenly everything was silent. "And making me fill her place because you bit off more than you can chew is not my fault. You can't take my life away too."

His eyes softened, but then, his features hardened once again. "So, those yo true feelings, huh?"

"I can't take them back now."

There was a moment. A moment so articulated, I heard the words before he spoke them. "I think you should leave."

"Come on, Dad. I'm in the middle of my shift, and—"

"No, I mean leave the house. Pack up your things and leave. Find the happiness you so clearly can't find here."

"You're kicking me out?" I whimpered. "But...you need me."

"I think it's very clear that it's you who needs us."

I didn't think it was possible for him to say that to me. Sure, he wanted to hurt me, but to this extent? He would claim it was for my happiness, but it wasn't. He wanted to hurt me right back. The look on his face, his vacant eyes, and unyielding posture, I'd remember them all. He stood like a pillar. Turning on his heels, he returned to his restaurant.

Shae stood at the top of the stairs, frozen in place. Good. I wasn't the only one who felt blindsided. I knew they wanted to say something, but the tears came, falling one after the other. My breath went rigid as if my throat closed up. And Shae folded into themselves, hiding from the reality of our father's decision.

I forced myself to the restaurant's floors. Though my head was down, I could feel every eye on me, as if someone broadcasted the argument live for their entertainment.

When the summer heat touched my skin, I took in its woody scent, but my emotions raged on. By the time I made it to the end of the alley, I heard Wren's voice arise from the chatter.

"Nora! Wait!" He broke through the crowd, and when he was close enough, he stood before me, overtaking my steps. "Tell me what happened."

"Nothing." With the nudge of my hand, I pushed him out of the way, but he planted his feet.

"Stop running away. That's your thing. Running away when things get scary. Do you realize I've been chasing you since the moment we met?"

"Sorry, guess I'm not the leading lady you want."

He threw his head back in the way my father did, but he smiled. What the hell he smiling for? And just like that, I was caught in his web.

Brushing my tears with the pad of his thumb, he whispered, "Talk to me. Tell me why you're crying?"

"This is your fault." I wanted to make him angry. I wanted him to leave me alone. And I hated how I knew that wasn't true. If he had the time, I wanted him to share it with me. "You got into my head last night with your psychological bullshit, and I fought with my dad."

"And how did it feel?"

"Like hell."

"No, I know it didn't," he chuckled despite himself. "You feel lighter. You just can't tell because you're emotional about the fight."

I pulled away from his touch and vacated the alley. "He kicked me out of the house."

"Fuck, really?" He was married to my side, following my lost direction. "Songbird, I'm sorry. I didn't think it was going to be that bad."

"I accused him of killing my mother."

"Fuck." He stopped in his tracks, calling my stride to an end. "You don't hold back, do you?"

I could see his judgment loud and clear, and I could hardly accept it. Crumbling to the ground, I buried my face in my arms. "I'm a horrible person."

"You know that's not true." He wrapped his arms around me. His voice rumbled in his chest as he placed his chin on the top of my head. "And hey, if you don't have anywhere to go, I'll take you in. You can stay with me. I mean, it's the least I can do after—"

"Stay with you?" I jolted at the suggestion.

"...yeah, I mean unless you have somewhere—ouch!"

We hopped to our feet. Mrs. Davidson rammed her cane into Wren's back. He ran away from her hits, hiding behind me. She wagged her finger, snatching me close. "Why would she stay with you?"

Mrs. Davidson was a small, light-skinned woman. Only had vision in one eye, and used a cane to walk, but would cuss you out in a second. Her hair was sparse and she wore her glasses at the bottom of her nose. After losing her husband, she hosted bingo nights at her house for her church sisters. We attended one time and vowed never to go back.

"You can stay at my house in the city," she said.

Mrs. Davidson's house? In the city? I'd rather take the piano room floor.

"I live in the city, too. I can visit you all the time," Wren said but flinched when Mrs. Davidson raised her cane. "After I get permission, of course," he corrected.

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