Clarke
Iwoke up disoriented, mouth open, and smelling breakfast. I didn’t know where I was. I heard voices in the
kitchen—not my kitchen. Where was I? I blinked my eyes open and wiped the drool off my chin. The warm- toned
wood paneling and photos hung on the wall gave it away: Boone’s. I pulled the soft blanket that was on me up under
my chin.
No wonder I felt so safe. “Good morning, sunshine,” Leith said, walking into the living room. He had a
steaming mug in each of his hands. Why was he here? I had memories of him from last night, but I mostly assumed
they were just dreams.
Really good dreams. “What are you doing here?” I asked, sitting up. He held out one of the mugs to me, and I
took it. When I looked around me, I realized that all Boone’s dogs were surrounding me—staring at me and waiting
for me to wake up. Chicken, the world’s oldest Chihuahua was sitting in my lap. I’d almost knocked him off when I
sat up—which he let me know he disapproved of by baring his teeth—or at least trying. He didn’t have that many
left.
“Collins called me last night,” he said. “After whatever happened... happened. She, um, thought I’d want to
know and that, um, you’d want me to know and maybe want me here when you woke up.”
“Oh,” I said. Collins did that? I didn’t know how I felt about it. I did want Leith here, but I didn’t know what
that meant for the nature of our
relationship. And I’m sure another headache brought up a lot of questions for him that I didn’t know how to
answer.
I was happy he was here anyway. “Is that okay?” he asked. I nodded and took a sip from my cup. “Did you
learn to make coffee from Boone? Because I swear to god he’s brewing one cup of grounds per one cup of water.”
I snorted into my cup. “Actually, yes,” I said. “My parents used to drop Collins and me off really early in the
morning during the summer, and we would always make Boone his second pot of coffee.” And then, when we were
fifteen or sixteen, we started drinking it with him while he smoked his single daily cigarette on the front porch.
“Breakfast is ready!” Collins called. My sister’s voice took me back to last night—all the things she said. I
shook my head. I wasn’t ready to face her.
Leith stretched out the hand that wasn’t holding his coffee to me, and I took it. I realized that I hadn’t washed
my hair or done my skin care or brushed my teeth, and I was wearing the same clothes as yesterday—my spy
clothes. I waited for the embarrassment to settle over me, but it didn’t.
When we got to the kitchen, I saw Brady sitting at the table reading a newspaper—the Meadowlark Examiner.
Boone had gotten them mailed here for as long as I could remember. Brady looked up from it and grinned. I set my
coffee down and made my way over to him, and he stood and pulled me into a hug. I spent a lot of time with Brady
during his first year in Sweetwater Peak and missed him while he was gone.
“Welcome home, upholsterer,” I said. “Sure feels that way,” he said. “Like home. How’s the noggin? Collins
said it was, um...”—he glanced over at Leith, unsure—“intense.”
“It was,” I said. “But now it just feels like I have a killer hangover.” “Well, we’ve got the cure for that,” Collins
said from her spot at the stove. Boone was next to her, dishing onto a plate enough greasy bacon to feed an army.
“Anything good happening in Meadowlark?” I asked Brady.
“Apparently they just made a dive bar a historical landmark, which is kinda cool,” he said. “By the way, Collins
had me check on Pearl last night. She’s all good and waiting for you at home.”
Then he went over to Collins and kissed her temple. “How can I help?” he asked.
“Get this old motherfucker to sit down,” she said and gestured toward Boone.
“My hearing’s not all the way gone, kid,” Boone said with a grunt. “And this old motherfucker doesn’t trust you
or the city boy to not burn his house down with bacon grease.”
“What about the farm boy?” Leith asked. “No,” Boone said, deadpan. I watched Leith’s shoulders deflate a
little and had to stifle a laugh.
“Well, the bacon is done,” Collins said. “So, sit. We’ll bring everything else over.” Boone huffed, but he did
what she asked, taking his seat at the head of the table. I sat next to him, and Leith slid into the seat next to me.
Brady helped Collins bring over a borderline insane amount of food. “Okay,” she said. “We have blueberry
pancakes,” Collins’s favorite. “Cinnamon rolls out of a tube,” my favorite. “Eggs, cowboy hash,” which was just
potatoes with onions, bell p eppers, and jalapeños. “Sausage links, and bacon.”
“And Joanie’s cherry syrup and Boone’s hot sauce,” Brady chimed in— putting two jars on the table.
Everybody started passing plates around and filling up their own.
When Leith started to spoon out some of the hot sauce, I said, “Be careful.” I liked spicy food, and I loved hot
sauce, but I was convinced
Boone had burned off most of his taste buds, because his hot sauce was diabolical. Both Collins and I only used
a little bit.
“Boone covered his entire plate in this stuff,” Leith said. “He’s tougher than you,” I said, but Leith still spooned
a decent amount over his eggs and hash.
“Oh, I’m going to love watching him take a bite of that,” Collins said. Leith smiled then lifted a forkful of eggs
to his mouth. He chewed for a beat. “Yeah, this is fine,” he said. Collins and I looked at each other— waiting for it
to hit. Leith swallowed, and his eyes got big.
“Holy fuck,” Leith said on a cough that wouldn’t stop. I reached behind him and patted him on the back a few
times. “What the hell is in there?”
“The fires of hell,” Collins responded. When I looked over at Boone, there was something suspiciously
reminiscent of a smile cre eping its way onto his face.
Leith k ept coughing, and the rest of us laughed at his expense. We talked through breakfast, and I let the carbs,
grease, and sugar work their way into my system. The throbbing in my head that was there when I woke up had
dulled. My sister told us stories about her and Brady’s adventures, about how her small-town photography was
being turned into a book. Leith talked about the beginnings of growing season, and even Boone chimed in here and
there about what he’d accomplished over the winter and that he was ready for warmer weather.
It was the best morning I’d had in a long time. “What time is it?” Leith asked as we were clearing the table.
“Quarter to eight,” Boone said. “You should really get a watch.” “Is he ribbing me?” Leith whispered to me, and I
giggled. He went on, “I need to get back to the farm for the day, will you be okay?”
“I’ll take care of her,” Collins said, and Leith looked at me for confirmation. I nodded.
“I have some stuff I want to talk to you about,” he said, voice lower. “Do you think you could come by later?”
“Sure thing,” I said. Leith nodded. “Thanks for breakfast,” he said to Boone and Collins.
“I’ll walk out with you,” Brady said, and he gave Collins a kiss on the cheek before both he and Leith headed
toward the front door.
When they were out of earshot, Collins said: “So, golden boy is actually kind of okay?” Boone grunted. I
grinned.
Yeah, he was.
“D