Page 131 of Finding Us

“I can do it. Don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t want you cleaning all day. I want us to go do something.” He takes a red t-shirt from the hanger and yanks it over his head and through his arms. “So let’s get this shit done. Tell me what you need.”

“Could you make breakfast?” I adjust his shirt a little so that it sits right on his shoulders.

“I would, but we don’t have any food.”

“Then I guess we should start by going to the grocery store.”

“Let’s go out for breakfast and then we’ll go to the store. We need to resume our pancake breakfast tradition.”

“That’s on Sundays.”

“Yeah, but we need to find a place to go. Come on.” He takes my hand, dragging me out of the closet. “We passed a diner on our way back here last night. They probably have pancakes.”

The diner is off on its own, about a mile from where we dropped the van off last night. It’s an old building that needs to be painted. It reminds me of the truck stop restaurants they have back in Iowa off the interstate.

When we get inside, there’s a sign that says to seat yourself so we find a booth in the back. The place isn’t very crowded but it’s 9 on a weekday so most people are at work.

“They only have buttermilk,” I say, perusing the small menu. “They don’t even have blueberry.”

“You have to lower your pancake standards, Jade. There aren’t many restaurants in this town.” Garret turns my coffee cup upright, then does the same to his own as the waitress approaches.

“Coffee?” She pours it without waiting for an answer.

“Sure,” Garret says, trying not to laugh.

“Ready to order?” The waitress looks hungover, her bleached-blond hair in a messy ponytail, her eyes tired and a little red. She’s probably my age but she looks older.

“We’ll both have the buttermilk pancakes,” Garret says. “And I’ll have a side of scrambled eggs. And bring two orange juice, please.”

She glances at me. “That it?”

“Yes. Thanks.” When she leaves I shut my menu and drop it in the holder at the end of the table. “Do you have to do that?”

“Do what?” Garret puts his menu next to mine.

“Order for me. It’s embarrassing. Did you see how she looked at me?”

“I wasn’t paying attention.” He takes one of the little coffee creamers from the bowl and opens it, then pours it in my coffee.

“Now what are you doing?” I pull my cup back.

“Fixing your coffee.” He reaches over and pours another creamer in. “Three creams, right?”

I glance toward the kitchen and see the waitress staring at us.

“Would you stop? Now she’s watching us.”

“What do you care?” He adds another creamer to my coffee.

“What if she goes to Camsburg? I don’t want her telling people I’m so incompetent I can’t order my own food and add cream to my coffee.”

He smiles. “She won’t say that. She’ll tell people how you have the best husband in the world who takes care of your food and beverage needs.”

I move my coffee out of his reach. “Thanks, but I got it. She’s coming over here again.”

“Do you want regular syrup?” She asks it only to Garret since she now assumes I have no say in the matter. Her jaw moves up and down as she chomps on the wad of pink bubble gum in her mouth.

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