Celeste couldn’t believe the balloon of hope expanding inside her chest. She and Brad seemed so different on the outside. Sure, he was refined in a different kind of way. He’d obviously gotten up and showered and ready for the day. He was employed. He had money. But he surely used those little cups of fake creamer, and Celeste didn’t.
But they both liked sunsets, and now they both liked ketchup on their eggs.
“So it’s your mom’s birthday,” she said, trying to get a conversation going. The man had food enough for three people in front of him, and it was obvious she’d interrupted a morning ritual he had.
“Yes,” he said. “Next week. My brother is coming in from Kentucky and everything.”
“Wow,” she said.
“Yeah.” Brad nodded and reached for his mug.
He wasn’t drinking coffee, and that sur
