Page 15 of Look at Her and Die

Heavy sheets so thick that I had to slow down ten miles per hour.

I passed Doggie Doos where I needed to be in five minutes before they closed, and in turn drove to the diner that was around the block.

Pulling to a stop at the curb, I said, “Thanks again.”

She slammed the door closed without a thank you, which only had me grinning.

“I like her,” Scottie said as we watched Searcy walk inside the diner, unhurried and uncaring that she was getting soaked.

Did the woman rush anywhere?

“I do, too,” I admitted.

Instead of going inside and airing out all my dirty laundry, I waited in the parking lot on my bike, watching her through the front window of the diner.

Searcy was once again serving food, but this time to the dinner rush.

The elderly lady that’d left with the kids earlier still wasn’t back, and now what I guessed to be all of Searcy’s siblings, even the youngest girl, were working. They looked like a well-oiled machine, as if they’d done this so many times before that they didn’t need to say a word to each other to communicate.

It was very interesting to watch, and kind of sad.

I didn’t know how to feel about kids working.

Then again, I guessed I’d been doing the same when I was young.

I couldn’t remember a time that I wasn’t up working, even if I had school that day.

Hell, during calving season, I specifically remembered going out to the barn after school, helping deliver calves all night, then turning right around and going straight to school with barely any sleep.

There were times that I’d gone to school in the same clothes that I’d been in the day before.

Yeah…needless to say, I could see how a kid would be working.

Was it called child labor when it was your own family making you do the work?

The soft whine of an electric vehicle pulled up beside where I was straddling my bike, but I didn’t look over.

I knew who it was.

My lips twitched when a woman tried to stop Searcy to likely ask for something, but Searcy whizzed right on by, holding her hand up.

Unapologetically rude.

I really liked that.

The woman at my side would never…

“Are you even going to look at me, or are we doing this without eye contact?”

I rolled my eyes and pushed up off my lean against the seat.

Swinging my leg over the bike, I made sure to leave the motorcycle between us to make sure to let her know I didn’t want her too close.

“Let’s do this,” I grumbled.

Elisha crossed her arms over her chest, her anger at my lack of caring palpable.

She always had this perfect way of displaying her displeasure.

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