Nowhere but Home by Liza Palmer Read Free Book Online Page A

like me. He doesn’t even want it. He’s a great wide receiver.” Cal’s confidence is unnerving, yet familiar. Sounds like me talking about cooking.
    â€œOkay, here y’all go—one coffee and one water. What else can I get you this morning?” Peggy says, setting down our beverages, her pencil at the ready.
    â€œI’ll have the number two with my eggs over medium, wheat toast, and the house potatoes,” I say, craning past Peggy to get a look at the menu on the wall.
    â€œCal, honey, what are you having?”
    â€œI’ll have the country breakfast with everything,” he says, not having to look at the menu at all. I just shake my head and laugh.
    â€œGotta keep fueled up, I guess!” Peggy says, her laughter now more nervous. She smiles and retreats back behind the counter.
    â€œShe hasn’t changed a bit. You know her own friends gave her that name—Piggy Peggy. I can’t believe she’s here and still just as obsequious as ever. Don’t let her fool you, my boy—she’ll no sooner give you an ingratiating smile than start a rumor that you started your period on the bus coming back from a field trip to the Texas Ranger museum in Waco,” I say, pouring cream into my coffee.
    â€œHypothetically speaking?” Cal asks.
    â€œI wish,” I say, reliving every horrific moment.
    â€œCal Wake,” a man strides over to our booth and extends his hand.
    â€œMr. Coburn.” Cal scoots out of the booth and stands to shake the man’s hand. My stomach drops as I look up at him. Everett Coburn. In North Star there are three families who are set apart from the rest, however unfairly. Well, four if you count the Wakes and you’re talking about the low bar. But if you’re talking about the gold standard of North Star, then it’s the Ackermans, the McKays, and the Coburns. They’re the closest things to royalty North Star’s got. Just ask them . . . they’ll be sure to tell you.
    â€œYou looked good out there this morning, son,” Everett says, his hand firmly placed on Cal’s throwing arm.
    â€œThank you, sir,” Cal says. The man looks from Cal to me and I see the realization settle on his face. I set my jaw and stare right back at him.
    â€œEverett,” I say with a curt nod.
    â€œYou know my aunt—,” Cal begins.
    â€œOf course, son. Queenie, nice to see you again, ” Everett says, his entire face lined with contained disbelief.
    â€œI see you’re just as quick with a lie as you always were,” I say with a smile.
    â€œA delight, as usual. Well, good luck out there, Cal. Queenie, welcome home,” Everett says.
    â€œTemporarily,” I say.
    â€œAs always,” Everett says, a polite nod to me while he disentangles himself from our booth as quickly as he appeared. Cal slides back in the booth.
    â€œYou know Mr. Coburn?” Cal asks as Peggy brings over our breakfasts.
    â€œYeah. I knew him,” I say as he digs in.
    Everett Coburn is the man I’ve been in love with my entire life.

5
    Butterscotch hard candy
    I need to cook something. I need to lose myself in something else besides the fractured light of my own memory. I’ll cook a big supper as a thank-you for being so welcoming. I’ll cook. And not think about crying at cemeteries, principals walking down hallways with squeaky shoes, and, most of all, about Everett Coburn—with his light brown hair that gets the tiniest flecks of blond just at his temples as the summer goes on. I’ll cook and really not think about his powerful hand resting on Cal’s throwing arm, the muscles threading up his arm like piano wire. I’ll cook so I won’t have to think about those green eyes pinwheeled in brown and yellow playing against his olive skin. The same green eyes that implored me to understand that he was marrying that girl anyway—even as we lay in my bed. No. I’ll