to. For now, it’s better with me out of the picture,” Drake said in a frustrated tone.
“I don’t understand,” Frannie asked, perplexed.
“Let the boy be, love. If he wants to tell us what’s going on, he will.” Drake looked around the food bank, and smiled. It was clean, efficient, but also welcoming, and it was because of the two people in front of him.
“You know, back in Ferris Holler our Food Bank wasn’t nearly so well organized, and seeing as how half the town depended on it, you would have thought it would’ve been really well put together.”
Frannie and Tony looked at one another.
“Did you donate your time there too, Drake?”
“Oh hell no, the Averys went there every Saturday and Tuesday to load up.” Drake grinned. “You would have loved Miss Tilda, she ran the place. It might not have been organized, but the woman was a love to us kids.”
“So speaking of love, tell us about Billy’s girl. I want to be prepared. He’s invited her to come help out at the pantry, and I want to know what to expect,” Frannie said.
“I’m not telling you anything, Missy. You’re going to have to come to your own conclusions.” Drake turned to Tony with a bag. “Here are some special treats I almost stole to take home. However Sophia said she’d find out and beat me if I did.”
Tony rubbed his hands together and peeked in the bag.
“Oooh, I love these.” Frannie and Drake shared a smile.
****
B illy Anderson
Normally getting done with homework early was a good thing. Instead he found himself playing with his pie trying not to stare at Rebecca as she ate hers. Was a guy supposed to get turned on with the way a girl ate her food? She had ordered banana cream pie, and watching her lips part and savor the treat was making him ache. The only saving grace was she had no clue he was stealing glances.
“Did you say your sister baked this pie?”
“She bakes everything in this diner,” Billy said proudly. “Some gourmet stores in town want her to start producing baked goods for them as well. She’s trying to figure out how to make it happen.”
“Does she cook the food?”
“No, Peter does. She could, she’s a great cook, but she’s the waitress. To begin with she needed the tips so she could earn enough so I could come and live with her.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I told you I was in foster care.” Rebecca put down her fork and wiped her mouth with her napkin.
“I didn’t believe you. I thought you were saying it to make me feel better.”
“Rebecca, I would never lie to you.” Billy looked her squarely in the eye.
“Good. It made me think less of you,” she admitted. “Why were you in foster care?”
“My dad abandoned us when my mom got sick. When she got too sick to take care of me, I ended up in foster care. My sister worked herself to the bone to try to make enough to get a place good enough for me to come and live with her.”
“Oh, that’s a wonderful story.” Rebecca was beaming.
“Why are you in foster care?”
“My mom is dead. My dad...” her voice trailed off.
Billy didn’t say anything.
“They took me away from my dad when I was seven. I’ve been in and out ever since. He got me back once when I was ten. It didn’t work out.” He heard a wealth of pain in her voice.
“One family wanted to adopt me but he refused to give up his rights. I’m hoping if I get good enough grades I can get a scholarship to college and go early. I want to petition to be an emancipated minor.”
Billy had never heard of someone so alone. That’s what made him blurt it out.
“Rebecca, would you go with me to the Valentine’s Day Dance.” He watched as her eyes lit up, and she grinned. His heart soared. Then her whole manner changed.
“I’m sorry, I can’t.”
Billy mulled over the words. He’d seen the way she’d turned down Eric, and she’d had a lot to say,