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“It’s going to be okay.” She didn’t know if she was trying to reassure herself, or the dog. Did Betty even understand her?
“Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”
They walked back into the house, and Lucia closed and locked the door. She trusted Boone’s home, but she didn’t want to make it easy for anyone to get close. She had Betty to protect.
The scent of coffee filled the air, and she put some food into a bowl, allowing her little dog to eat.
“You’re eating for a lot of little pups.” She stroked down Betty’s back, and then poured herself a mug of coffee. “You know what I’m thinking, Betty? I’m thinking some French toast. I think that could be quite nice.”
She pursed her lips and looked inside the fridge. Grabbing the carton of eggs, some milk, along with some bread, she felt her stomach start to growl, she was so hungry.
“I’m hungry.”
She was just talking to fill the silence.
“Do you like eggs?” she asked Betty.
The dog was still eating her bowl of food.
“Of course you do. Everyone likes eggs. I mean, I don’t know for certain, because I don’t know the whole world, but eggs are a pretty good food, right?”
She didn’t want to think. She missed Boone.
Lucia cracked two eggs into a bowl, followed by a splash of milk. She had seen one of those celebrity chefs do this on their cooking channel. She didn’t want any cinnamon, and instead, seasoned it with some salt and black pepper. Once that was done, she got to work melting the butter. It was important not to burn the butter or the bread.
Tears filled her eyes, which was crazy. Why was she crying?
Boone’s gone and he might not come back.
She sniffled. And the tears started to fall.
Slapping the two slices of bread into the pan, she heard the slight sizzle. Using the back of her hand to wipe her nose and rub at her eyes, she took a deep breath.
Her father had beaten her. There were times he would lash out at her for no good reason. A slap to the back of the head, a beating with the belt. Her brothers had tormented her, really terrified her, and her sister hadn’t been much better. Neither had her mother. She had gone through all of that—seeing people die, having to be quiet, listening to screams that would echo through the house—and no one was willing to make her feel okay. After everything she had been through, knowing there was a chance Boone might not make it back filled her with deep sorrow.
Lucia never cried for herself. There was no point. It was her life, and she got used to it.
“Lucia, what’s the matter?”
She jerked her head up and turned to see Boone standing in the kitchen doorway. Dropping the egg slice she had in her hand, she rushed toward him. This was not good, but she didn’t care, as she threw herself into his arms.
“I thought I was never going to see you again,” Lucia said.
He wrapped his arms around her, the tears fell even more freely now, and yes, she still hated them. Boone wrapped his arms around her, pressing his face against her neck. She was so grateful to have him in her arms.
“You’re cooking breakfast?” he asked.
“I’m trying to. French toast looks ... easy, I think.”
He laughed. “Do you want to make me some breakfast?”
She pulled back and nodded. When she went to move away, he stopped her, pulling her in close and wiping her tears.
“Why are you crying?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to lie to him, but that didn’t feel right. Lying was not going to solve things. Boone needed to know the truth.
“I didn’t think I was going to see you again.”