Page 71 of What He Keeps

Life keeps moving. The city doesn't care that my world is upside down.

The diner appears ahead, tucked into its corner like it’s been my entire life. Just seeing it lifts some of the tension riding my shoulders.

Mama is working the register when I walk inside. As soon as she spots me, her face changes.

“Oh, honey.”

I stop walking. That's never a good sign.

Several regular customers look up from their breakfasts while Mama comes around the counter. She doesn't say another word. She simply takes my face between both hands and studies me.

Her forehead wrinkles. “You look exhausted.”

“Good mornin’ to you too.”

“I'm serious.”

“I know, Mama. I'm doin’ the best I can.”

The concern in her voice nearly undoes me. I've spent so much time pretending I'm fine lately that hearing somebody acknowledge I'm not almost hurts.

Mama brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “Are you sleepin’ at all?”

“Some.”

“Maggie.”

I sigh. “Not much.”

“That's what I thought.”

She steers me toward an empty booth near the window.

“Mama, I don't have time to sit.” I dig my heels in, but she keeps walking like she hasn't heard a word.

“You do today.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “I really don't.”

“You absolutely do.”

I narrow my eyes.

She raises an eyebrow.

I sit.

Honestly, I never had much chance of winning this argument.

Mama disappears into the kitchen before returning with enough food to feed a family reunion.

I stare at the plates. Then at her. Then back at the plates.

“Mama.” I wave a hand toward the plates. “I'm one person."

“You look like you've forgotten that.”

I can't even argue.