“And I told you, I don’t care about your past.”
Duke sticks his head in. “Your twelve o’clock is here. You want him to wait?”
Duke looks at me and Ozzie’s mom, and it’s obvious he’s enjoying all the attention that Ozzie is getting right now.
“No. Tell him I’ll be right there,” he tells Duke and then opens his hands up to his mom and me. “Well, ladies, I have to get to work.”
I’m embarrassed at this point. I mean, how obvious can I be throwing myself at him? He’s obviously not interested. “Sure, no problem. Sorry for just stopping by.”
I see the look his mom gives him, and he at least has the decency to look embarrassed. Pearl stops me. “Ginger, how do you feel about having lunch with an old woman?”
But Ozzie is already shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“No one asked you what you thought,” she says and then laughs as she turns to me. “What do you say?”
I look at Ozzie, and the hurt and pain in his eyes is heavier than ever. Whatever has happened in his life weighs him down. But if he doesn’t want me to eat lunch with his mom, I won’t. “Do you care if I have lunch with your mom? If it really bothers you, I won’t.”
He’s about to say no. I can feel it. But almost instantly his face softens, and he says huskily, “No, that’s fine.”
I shake my head side to side. “I feel like I’m pushing my way into your life, and that’s not what I want.”
He doesn’t agree or disagree with my statement. Instead, he puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “It’s fine. I want you to have lunch with my mom.”
His mom makes a noise, an “Awwwww” before she quickly grabs my hand and pulls me from the door. We don’t even say goodbye; she just keeps walking, and I chance a look over my shoulder. He’s standing in the doorway, watching me with a strange expression on his face. Pearl stops as we get to the door and is about to say something, but Ozzie interrupts her. His eyes are on me and his gaze never wavers, but he’s talking to his mom. “I know, Ma. I’ll eat my veggies.”
I smile big at him, and he smiles in return. And that shared smile makes me fall for him a little more.
An hour later, we’ve finished our sandwich and salads, and Pearl and I are still sitting at the table at Bela’s Bakery. We have laughed and had a good time. She’s told me stories about her pawn shop and liquor store. Outlandish stories that would make a good reality TV series. We’ve talked about my family and the farm. It seems we’ve talked about everything except Ozzie.
She reaches over and taps the table in front of me. “Don’t give up on him.”
I don’t even need to ask who she’s talking about. “Oh, well uh, we just met last night.” I try to play it off, but a part of me really wants to know more about Ozzie.
Pearl cocks her head to the side. “Do you like my son?”
“I like what I know of him. But he’s not interested—” I don’t even get to finish the sentence.
“Hogwash. He’s interested. I could tell by the way he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.”
A part of me stirs, thinking that I was right, he does feel something for me, but I refuse to get my hopes up. “Yeah, well, he told me he’s not interested. I mean, more or less, that’s what he said.”
She nods knowingly. “You mean he gave you a spiel about him being on the right path and nothing’s going to get in his way, blah, blah, blah.”
I laugh and snort at the same time because obviously she knows her son well. That’s almost exactly what he said. “Uh, yeah.”
“Well, it’s a bunch of shi—crap.” She catches herself. She takes a deep breath, and her face becomes solemn. “Did he tell you he was in prison?”
I nod. “He did. I think he thought I wouldn’t want to get to know him after that—almost like he was trying to scare me off with it.”
She just shakes her head side to side. In less than an instant, with her face unguarded she looks as if she’s aged at least ten years. “Did he tell you what he was in for?”
I shake my head side to side but don’t say a word. It’s like a deep, dark secret that everyone knows but me and I keep silent, hoping she’s going to tell me. I feel bad, again like I’m talking about Ozzie behind his back, but I need to know. Not because I’m questioning if I’m still going to be interested in him or not. No, I’m wondering if it’s something that he’s going to be able to move past and trust that I still want him, even knowing it all.