Mornings On Main. Jodi Thomas

learned to correct that thought swiftly. Trying to go easy on a guy like that only led to more trouble. Only this time, she’d hesitated because of Sunnie. This boy was obviously her friend.

      Boys like Derrick were dying off though, or disguising themselves at first. Women no longer put up with them.

      Obviously, Derrick wasn’t even good at playing grown-up. Maybe that was why he was dating sixteen-year-olds. A few weeks from now Sunnie would be smarter, and he’d be looking for his next puppet to manipulate. Jillian was glad Gram was a wall away in the office and hadn’t witnessed the scene.

      Moving to the side of the front window, Jillian watched them arguing in the street. Sunnie was mad, jealous, or maybe just embarrassed, and Derrick was an idiot. An interesting pair to square off.

      He reached to touch her and she slapped his hand away.

      Jillian’s glance caught Connor’s outline in the newspaper office window directly across Main. He was staring at them, arms folded, feet wide apart. She could see the anger in his stance, but if he stepped outside, his daughter would turn on him and Connor was smart enough to know it. If he broke up the fight, Sunnie would hate him for treating her like a child. If he didn’t, she wouldn’t speak to him for allowing her to make a fool of herself to the whole town. Sometimes, no matter what a dad does, he can’t win.

      But Jillian saw something else going on. Sunnie was growing up in the middle of the argument, in the middle of the street. She was winning. Derrick was backing down, feeling cornered—and, like a wild animal, he might attack.

      A memory of the first guy she’d dated flashed in Jillian’s mind. He’d knocked her to the floor the first time they’d argued. When she’d cried to her pop, he’d told her one black eye was a cheap lesson. Step away. Don’t get involved.

      Jillian didn’t want Sunnie to have to learn that lesson.

      Neither of the kids seemed to notice people stopping to watch. If this fight escalated, Sunnie would be the one talked about. The one hurt.

      A sound came from the kitchen as Jillian reached the door.

      Gram must have dropped something.

      For a second, Jillian froze, not sure which way to run. “Gram?”

      “I’m fine, dear. Just dropped this old teapot and splashed hot water everywhere.”

      Jillian chose her crisis. She rushed outside and did something she never did. She stepped in and got involved.

      “Glad I caught you, Sunnie,” she yelled as if she hadn’t noticed Derrick was spitting out swear words.

      “What?” Sunnie’s question was sharp, but she didn’t turn back to Derrick.

      “I need help. Gram is in trouble. I think she’s hurt.” It was only a small lie. Gram hadn’t sounded hurt, just flustered, but it was all Jillian could think of in one second.

      “Come on, Derrick,” Sunnie ordered and took off running for the shop.

      “Yes, come,” Jillian encouraged in a lower voice. “Someone’s got to clean up the vomit while we rush her to the clinic.”

      Derrick held up one hand and backed away. “I’m not good with old people. Or sick people. Or helping. I got to go.” He wasn’t smart enough to think of an excuse, so he just ran.

      Jillian grinned and caught a glimpse of Connor’s smile in the newspaper office window. He might not have heard the words exchanged, but he was aware that she’d broken up the argument.

      She ran back into the store and found Sunnie kneeling at Gram’s chair near the office door. “Now, Gram, you have to tell me where you hurt.” Tears wiped away some of the girl’s black makeup. “Maybe I can help.”

      Gram brushed her wrinkled hand over her great-granddaughter’s light blond hair. “I’m just getting old, sweetie. We all do. Sometimes my grip isn’t as good as it used to be.” When she saw she had all Sunnie’s attention, she added, “I feel a little faint. I scalded my hand with the boiling water I’d warmed for tea. It’s nothing. It’ll stop burning soon.”