him steer her to his Jeep Cherokee, which was right there at the curb. He must have just gotten out of it.
“Wait.” She tried to put on the brakes. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere we can talk. We can run through the Burger Barn drive-through and get drinks, then go park.”
The last time they’d parked... Not going there, she decided. They had “parked” a lot during their two years and five months as girlfriend-boyfriend. But the last time was when he’d said the devastating words: “I’ve met someone else.”
“No, I really should—”
“Olivia, you don’t want to go back to work looking the way you do.”
She closed her mouth on her protest. Even if she locked herself in her office, someone was sure to track her down. And she’d have to walk through the store to get to the stairs that led up to the loft where the offices were. She’d be waylaid ten times before she got that far.
Yes, but Ben Hovik...
There were worse people to talk to. Despite everything, she did believe he would keep a confidence. And he knew her parents, so he’d understand her bewilderment.
After a moment, she nodded and got in once he’d opened the door. From habit, she fastened the seat belt as he went around and got in, too.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mother backing her Saab out of a curbside slot—which so happened to be right in front of the Home & County Real Estate office. Had she already listed the house?
Olivia’s coal of anger burned hotter.
Ben saw her mother driving away, too, after which his gaze rested thoughtfully on Olivia’s face and her hands clenched on the seat belt. Without saying anything, he put his SUV into gear, signaled and then slowly pulled out, going the opposite direction from her mom.
Neither of them spoke until he stopped in the Burger Barn drive-through. She was suddenly starved. Anger was apparently good for her appetite, when shock hadn’t been.
“I want a cheeseburger and fries. Diet cola.”
His eyebrow quirked, but he ordered for her and added a coffee for himself.
“You’ve already eaten,” she realized.
“At home,” he said.
“Did you have an errand in town?” she asked, suddenly suspicious.
“Nope. On my way back to the high school. Just spotted you and your mother, both of you freely projecting hostility.”
“We weren’t.”
“If it wasn’t hostility, it was a close relation.” He turned his head when the young woman reappeared in the take-out window with bags. He handed over money before Olivia could reach for her wallet, accepted the food and drinks and started driving forward.
“Thank you,” she said stiffly.
“You’re welcome.”
She asked if he minded if she ate; he said of course not. He took a few turns but, thank heavens, didn’t head for any of the popular parking spots. Instead, he chose a lane that led to a now snow-covered field, turned around and set the emergency brake. He was nice enough to leave the engine running so they still had heat.
They sat in silence for a while, until she noticed he was amused by the way she was gobbling her French fries. Flushing, she wiped her fingers on a napkin.
“I noticed at the funeral that the two of you weren’t standing near each other,” he said, instead of remarking on her gluttony. “I figured you were both trying to keep your composure and were afraid you’d set each other off. But that wasn’t it, was it?”
She both wanted and didn’t want to talk. Why was Ben the only person who’d noticed something was wrong? Or had other people, but he was the only one with the nerve to be so nosy?
Or the only one who cared enough?
No, she couldn’t believe that. Whatever relationship they’d had was long past. Those words, I’ve met someone else, had been said sixteen years ago. Half a lifetime, for her. They’d hardly spoken since.
If she could just think of him as a high school friend...
“You know what Mom and Dad were like,” she said. “So obviously in love even after all these years.”
Ben nodded. Everyone noticed.
“It’s probably why I’m not married. High expectations, you know?”
He nodded again, but she noted, when she sneaked a peek, that his face was particularly unreadable. Did he think she was slamming him for dumping her?
Ancient history, she told herself impatiently.
“After his first heart attack, Mom was so scared,” Olivia continued. “But three months or so ago, something happened. They practically quit talking. Mom moved into the guest bedroom. Neither of them would tell me what was going on.”
Now Ben looked surprised. “Your parents?”
“It was...weird. I think Mom was the one who was mad. Is mad,” she corrected herself softly. “But what could Dad have done? I mean, he’d hardly left the house since they released him from the hospital. I was running the business, so it wasn’t anything related to that.”
“I can’t imagine.” Ben frowned. “Besides, your mother must have known he was living on borrowed time.”
Olivia stared straight ahead through the windshield. “Even when he died, I could tell she was angry. Grieving, but not the way you’d expect. They’d been married thirty-eight years!” She shifted in the seat to look at Ben. “We buried him four days ago. Four! Do you know why we were having lunch today? So she could announce that she’s putting the house on the market.”
He stared. “Already?”
“That’s what I said! Then she said, ‘I’m a widow now, and I’m ready to downsize. Is that so bad?’ We’ve barely washed the sheets from their bed!”
“Did she move back into their bedroom after he died?”
Olivia shook her head. “I think selling the house is her way of leaving him. Too late for a divorce, but she has to reject him somehow. And apparently, she can’t stand to wait another minute.”
He watched her, expression troubled. “You don’t have any idea what it could have been.”
“No.” She looked away. “He died right after—”
“I know when he died.” One large hand pried the small container of fries out of her hand, and she realized she’d been squeezing it in a fist. Ben set it between the seats. “Maybe attending the funeral got to him.” He hesitated. “It was a cold day. That couldn’t have been good for him.”
“What you really mean
