Page 121 of The Birthday List (Maysen Jar 1)

While Helen made a to-go bag, I whipped up two hot chocolates in our largest mugs. Then I carried them back to Belle’s table and sat. “Here you go. Cheers!”

I took a long sip of my cocoa, relieved as she did the same.

“So, Belle. Ho

w did you find this place? Do you live close by?”

She shook her head. “No, I heard some girls at school talking about it.”

“Do you go to Bozeman High?”

She nodded and took another sip of hot chocolate.

“Is this your senior year? Is that why you get out so early?”

“No, I’m a junior. But my last class is just study hall and the teacher doesn’t make us stay if we have good grades.”

A junior. Which meant she was probably only sixteen years old. Sixteen. Hungry. And pregnant. I hoped that she was at least getting meals at school.

“Do you have a favorite subject?”

“I like home ec.”

“No way! That was my favorite class too. I loved the cooking, obviously. What’s your favorite part?”

She smiled—the first genuine smile I’d seen—and it was stunning. “I love the cooking too.”

“Have you ever made homemade egg noodles?”

She shook her head.

“Well, I’m making some today for chicken noodle soup. Want to help?”

She nearly dropped her mug at my offer. “Really?”

“Let me show you my favorite part of the restaurant.” I winked. “Follow me to the kitchen.”

An hour later, I had three times the egg noodles I needed for the soup and I was letting Belle mix a batch of triple berry pie filling. I’d done most of the talking in the past hour, telling her tidbits about myself and my cooking experiences, but as we’d started with the berries, she’d finally begun to open up.

I’d learned that she was sixteen, like I’d guessed, and lived with her dad. I also found out that she’d been walking here after school on the days when she needed a quiet place to do her homework.

And that she was definitely eating for two.

“How far along are you?”

“Six months, I think.” Her shoulders folded inward as she whispered, “I’m not exactly sure.”

“Have you been to the doctor yet?”

“I don’t have insurance.”

Most sixteen-year-old kids didn’t. “What about your parents?”

She shook her head.

When she shied away even farther, I backed off the questions. I’d made a lot of progress with Belle today, and I hoped I’d earned her trust this afternoon. Maybe in time, she’d be more open to sharing about her life.

“Have you ever made corn bread before?”