Page 21 of Cain

“No,” he was quick to correct me. “Wouldn’t be babysitting if they were my kids. But no. I’m actually here keeping an eye on the grown, but very drunk, girls in my extended family.”

“Oh, well, that’s nice of you. They’re lucky to have someone looking out for them.”

“Speaking of. Are you okay? You look a little panicked.”

“I wasn’t anticipating how much my fight-or-flight would kick in inside the maze,” I admitted as I moved to follow him a few feet away from the exit as a trio of teen girls emerged, laughing. “I wish I could say I’m a fighter. But I’m more of a runner and hider and panicker.”

“Think maybe the ancestors who ran probably survived better than the ones who fought. Be proud of that lineage. Want to grab a drink to warm you up?”

It really had gone chilly.

The wind had kicked up, making me regret my lightweight sweater instead of a jacket. But I hadn’t bought one of those yet.

“Are they as good as they smell?”

“Better. And the donuts are dangerous. The last time I was here, I somehow managed to eat five of them without realizing. Plus slices of banana bread and pumpkin spice bread.”

“I didn’t realize there were breads.” The words came out like a groan even as I remembered that I really only had the money for one coffee and a donut.

“Yeah, killer ones. What kind of drink are you leaning toward?”

“I mean, I guess you kind of have to have a pumpkin spice, right? Though an argument can be made for salted caramel, maple, or cinnamon and brown sugar.”

I’d mostly been getting coffee from my ancient coffee maker at the motel, since my budget didn’t exactly allow for expensive coffees. But I wanted to treat myself to all the flavors. Full sugar ones, too. None of that skinny syrup Perry insisted I use that mostly tasted like chemicals to me.

“Do you like flavored coffee?” I asked as we queued up.

“I’m usually more of a black coffee person on the regular, but dessert coffee has its place. What are your feelings on whipped cream?”

“I mean, why bother if you’re not going to get it with whipped cream?”

We stepped up to the coffee cart, and the woman gave Cain a sweet smile.

“Here for more breads and donuts?”

“Hush,” Cain said in a voice that suggested he was familiar with the girl, who was perhaps young enough to be one of those kids in his extended family. “Two large pumpkin spice, with the whip, and the sample tray.”

“Wait, no. I can pay—”

“I’m sure you can,” Cain agreed, passing the young woman the cash, “but you’re not going to.”

“Normally, I’d take yours if you insisted,” the girl said, trying to pass Cain his change, but he nodded to the tip jar for her to drop the ten-plus dollars in, “but Cain would make a whole thing out of it.”

With that, she turned to get started on the drinks.

“Is she family?”

“She’s family of the people who own this place. Which makes her a family friend, I guess. What?” he asked, catching me watching his profile.

“Navesink Bank is a pretty big town, but you make it sound small and cozy.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It’s meant as one. I’ve never really felt that, you know, in the community.”

“My family is more of my found family. And it’s… expansive. Something like thirty-five couples, then all their kids. And because of those connections, there are a lot of friends inside the community.”

“That’s amazing. I can’t imagine. I came from a really small family. And I, um, haven’t maintained those connections.”