Page 87 of Run Away With Me

The diner had a glowing neon sign above the door, declaring itMOLLY’Sin electric pink. I pushed open the door to what felt like a movie set: red leather booths, circular stools at a long bar, an open kitchen at the back and a refrigerator case packed full of pies.

‘Pie,’ Brooke whimpered from behind me.

‘Y’all grab a table,’ a waitress called over. ‘Wherever you like.’

The waitress was maybe my mom’s age, mid-thirties. She wore jeans and a pink polo shirt with a white utility apron tied around her waist.

I let Brooke choose a booth near the window and slid in opposite her.

The diner was clearly winding down from the morning rush, with a few stragglers still eating. A family with two young kids, a couple who I guessed were in their sixties, a pair of men who looked like truckers and who I wanted to think were secret lovers.

I’d definitely been reading too many romance novels.

The waitress came over with a pot of coffee, and Brooke turned our cups over.

‘Mornin’,’ the waitress said, pouring Brooke’s coffee, then mine. ‘I’m Molly. I’ll be looking after you today. Menu’s there, but you let me know if you want something that’s not on it and we’ll do our best to fix you right up.’

‘Are you still serving breakfast?’ I asked.

‘Oh, only up until eleven tonight,’ she said with a wink.

‘Great, thanks,’ I replied with a smile.

‘I’ll be back in just a tick.’

Brooke doctored her coffee with two creamers and three sugars and drank most of it in one gulp.

‘Did you eat the Pop-Tarts?’ I asked her.

‘No. I decided to save myself.’

I knocked my foot against hers under the table and she smiled at me, making my hungry stomach clench hard.

‘Let’s stay here another night,’ Brooke said quickly, like she was expecting me to say no.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. I don’t want to go anywhere today. I can’t …’ She shook her head. ‘This is nice.’

‘I think so too,’ I said easily.

Molly came back and topped up Brooke’s coffee. I hadn’t started mine.

‘What can I get ya?’ she asked.

Brooke snapped her menu closed. ‘Can I get an everything omelet, with extra everything, no mushrooms?’

Molly grinned. ‘Sure. You want hash browns?’

‘Please. And a slice of pie.’

‘What kinda pie?’

‘Surprise me.’

‘Surprise pie and a double-everything-no-fungus omelet, got it.’ Molly turned to me, still chuckling a little after hearing Brooke’s giant order.

‘Uh, just bacon and eggs, please,’ I said, laughing with her.

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