Free John Riley's Girl by Inglath Cooper

sameness of the place made her memories all the more real: she and Lori coming here after school for a milkshake andfries; she and John stopping in after a movie and sharing a banana split in the booth by the window which they’d come to think of as theirs.
    She took a seat in a corner of the diner as far from that particular booth as she could get. The place was over half full. Olivia felt the not-so-subtle stares from the tables around her. She had long ago gotten used to the scrutiny that came from being recognized, but for the first time in a long while, she wished for anonymity, to sit here with her old friend and just fit in.
    “Hi.” Lori tossed out the greeting a few yards from the table, hung her purse on the back of the chair and sank onto the seat. “Tell me you’re not mad at me for not warning you about the superlative thing.”
    Olivia shook her head. “Guess you knew better.”
    “Selfish, maybe, but I didn’t want you to leave.”
    “And I probably would have.”
    Their waitress appeared, her smile quick and sincere considering the hour. “What can I get you?” she asked.
    “Coffee for me,” Lori said. “And what the heck? I’ll have a slice of your coconut-cream pie.”
    “Make that two,” Olivia added.
    The waitress scribbled something on her pad, then glanced up. “You want cream and sugar with—”
    She broke off there, recognition flooding her face. “Why you’re that—You’re—” She snapped her fingers. “Olivia Ashford! Well, I’ll be. Marcille!” she yelled over her shoulder at the waitress taking an order from the next table over. “We’ve got a real celebrity in tonight!”
    Marcille glanced up from her order pad, squinted at Olivia, then Lori, then returned to Olivia again. “Sure enough!”
    She hustled across the room, waving her pad and saying, “Oh, could I get an autograph for my mother? She loves your show.”
    Olivia smiled, and ended up writing one out for both women, a little uncomfortable with the request simply because she wanted to be nothing other than Lori’s old friend without the differences in their lives getting in the way.
    Once the two enthusiastic waitresses had headed off toward the kitchen, Lori said, “I’m sorry about the scene with John.”
    “I should have expected it,” Olivia said. She hesitated and then, “I didn’t know about his wife.”
    Lori fiddled with the handle on her coffee cup. “I thought about telling you when I called a couple weeks ago, but I didn’t know how to bring it up. Laura didn’t deserve what happened to her. She was a really wonderful person.”
    “I’m sure she was judging by her daughter.”
    “You met Flora then?”
    Olivia recalled the sweet face peering down at her from the bedroom window. “She’s adorable.”
    “John is crazy about her. She’s what kept him going. There’s no question about that.”
    “Is he okay?” Olivia heard the concern in her own voice, but refused to take the time to analyze it or to try and cover it up.
    “Some days, I think. It’s been almost two years. It’s been difficult. John hasn’t changed much really. Still thinks he can handle everything himself. To be honest with you, when I asked him if we could move the reunion out to his place, I never expected him to say yes. He’s pretty much isolated himself since Laura died. Doesn’t go out or anything.”
    Olivia wanted to tell Lori she had met his wife all those years ago when she had come back, never imagining that John would have found someone else so soon. But it seemed somehow inappropriate now, an invasion of another woman’s still very real presence.
    “Can I ask you something, Olivia?” Lori’s expression had changed. Solemn, now.
    “Of course.”
    Lori looked down at her lap, then met Olivia’s gaze, a wounded, hurt look in her eyes. “Why’d you leave without letting anybody know?”
    Olivia put down her cup, studied the tabletop for a few seconds and searched for words. Of course, she had