Everyone circled around the table. Mitzi scooped out bowls full for each one, and the room was filled with laughter and conversation about the fireworks show. Graham hung back until everyone else was served and then took a few steps forward.

“I guess what’s left can be divided among the two of us,” he said. “Unless you want to put it all in one big bowl and we’ll share. Fewer dirty dishes that way.”

“We need to talk,” she said softly.

“About ice cream?” he asked.

“Something a little more serious. But not here.” She scooped out a big portion for him and then pointed to the strawberries and chocolate. “Topping?”

“I like my ice cream plain.” A chill ran down his back that was colder than the ice cream in the bowl. “When do we need to have this talk?”

“Soon, but in private. I’ll text you,” she whispered.

“I’ll be waiting.” Her hand brushed his when she handed off the bowl. He wasn’t surprised at the electricity that passed between them—not one bit.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dark clouds shifted back and forth over a skinny crescent moon doing its best to throw a little light into Mitzi’s room that evening. A soft breeze brushed the limbs of the old pecan tree against the window. Like everything else, both of those made her think of the situation she had with Graham and the problems her friends were facing.

Jody had been like a dark sky with no visible moon until Quincy came into her life. Now there was a ray of light, however slim, in her eyes. For that, Mitzi would always appreciate Quincy. Paula, with her pregnancy by a total jerk, had lived with no light for months until she unburdened herself of the secret. After she’d confronted Clinton, it seemed like she was happier.

Mitzi couldn’t sleep, so she sat up in bed and stared at that sliver of a moon hanging right outside her window. She fell back on her pillow, turned her back to the window, and shut her eyes tightly, trying to will herself to sleep, but it didn’t work. Her mind wouldn’t stop spinning in circles. Getting this thing settled once and for all with Graham had to be done, and soon.

She padded barefoot down to the kitchen, heated up a cup of milk, and added chocolate syrup to it. That usually worked wonders when it came to making her drowsy, but after half an hour, she was still wide awake. The clock on the microwave said it was twelve thirty—too late to text Graham.