Chapter Twelve
It’s been about two weeks since my fight with Iris and we haven’t spoken much. We’ve exchanged a few texts, and she’s been by the restaurant a couple of times, but we haven’t talked about what went down between us, and I’m not sure I’m ready to.
But business is good, and Mom, maybe because she senses something going on with Iris and me, has been really sweet. She’s still not happy I signed the lease, but she hasn’t brought it up again. As an apology, I get to the restaurant early to make her a special breakfast.
“Did you make fritters?” she asks, as she walks through the back door and joins me at the stove.
I place the last golden brown fritter onto a plate. “I know how much you love them, and I realized I hadn’t made you any since I’ve been back.”
Mom stares wistfully
