Free John Riley's Girl by Inglath Cooper Page B

doesn’t exactly sit around waiting on any of us, does it?”
    “No, I’m afraid it doesn’t.”
    They smiled at one another, and it was strange, but of all the friends and acquaintances Olivia had acquired in the life she’d made since leaving here, none of them had ever been like Lori. They’d always been this comfortable with each other. The kind of comfortable where you borrowed each other’s clothes, used each other’s lipstick, wore each other’s shoes. Real friends with real roots. And, oh, she had missed this kind of connection.
    “You’re really happy with your life, aren’t you, Lori?”
    “I am. You know, it’s funny how when we’re younger, we list off all the things we want when we’re adults and can do what we please. A big house, a fancy car, great clothes, an impressive job. But what gets me up every morning, what makes me feel good about myself when I go to bed at night is my husband and children. It all comes back to that.”
    Olivia planted her gaze on her coffee cup. The words sent a little arrow through her heart, and with it came the sudden realization of the hollowness in her own life, the distinct feeling that something was missing. She blinked and looked back up.
    “Okay, everybody, five minutes to closing.” Marcille made the announcement from the cash register.
    Lori glanced at her watch. “Gosh, it is late. Can you come over to the house for lunch tomorrow?”
    “I’d love to.”
    Lori gave her some quick directions, then picked up her purse from the floor. “I feel like I’ve been given a gift I thought I’d lost a long time ago. I don’t want to lose it again.”
    “Neither do I.”
    “Good.” She reached across the table to squeeze Olivia’s hand. “Then we won’t. We just won’t.”
    To Olivia, it seemed impossible that two people could put a lost friendship back on track in so short a time when it had been left to wither for fifteen years. But that was exactly what they had done. Lori didn’t need to know why. She had merely welcomed her back. Accepted her. And maybe, after all, that was the real definition of friendship.

CHAPTER SIX
    Bedtime Stories
    S OPHIA HAD a long-standing eight o’clock appointment every Friday morning at the So-Chic Beauty Salon in town for a wash and set.
    Friday was therefore John’s day to make breakfast for Flora, the menu usually consisting of either oatmeal and toast or frozen waffles with maple syrup. They were the only two breakfast foods he knew how to make. It was a good thing they both happened to be his daughter’s favorites. He’d never been sure if that was actually true, or simply another of her attempts to make him feel as if he was acing this single-parent thing.
    Unfortunately for him, the smell of the waffles did not appeal this morning. Between the two of them, he and Cleeve had made a good-size dent in that bottle of bourbon, the aftermath leaving John with a colossal headache that was now beating at his temples with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.
    Flora was in her chair at the center of the table.Her brown hair hung in a braid down her back. Since it was Friday, she’d picked out her favorite outfit—faded overalls with a pink T-shirt. Laura had been against such clothes for school. She’d thought them too tomboyish, but like so many things these days, John didn’t have the heart to deny his daughter this simple pleasure. And yet the needle of guilt was there, too, making him wonder if he should change something Laura had felt strongly about.
    “Look, Daddy.” Flora pointed her fork at the newspaper on the table in front of her. Syrup dripped off the tip and landed on the elephant pictured beneath the headline.
    “Watch out, honey. You’re making a mess.”
    Flora dabbed at the syrup with her napkin. “Sorry, Daddy,” she said, looking down at her lap, her bottom lip teetering.
    Regret hit John in the chest. His patience was way too thin this morning, his own rattled mind no excuse. “No, I’m