Page 16 of Take Me Home

Wasit called that? Nowhere in all the other signage had that phrase appeared. Before he could say as much, Hazel shoved him into the nearest booth and buried her face in an enormous menu.

When the woman retreated to the kitchen, Hazel grabbed his wrist across the table, eyes still enormous, and said, “Whatisthis place?”

“Well, obviously, it’s the Phone It In Diner. Didn’t you see the enormous sign?”

“Is that atheme? Phones?”

“Yeah, the classic diner theme: call a scary stranger on the phone.”

Hazel laughed, and he liked that, too—makingher laugh. She slumped back into the booth, apparently exhausted from holding it in. “She was kind of right, though. We do fear that.”

“I can’t tell if the phone thing is nostalgia, or if this place has been here since the telephone was boldly futuristic.” He pushed spongy stuffing spilling from a gash in the vinyl seat back in.

“Either way, I’m not calling that lady. You’re gonna have to do it.”

Shit. Speaking of calling…Ash sent a quick text to Maggie to let her know he wasn’t going to make it tonight after all.

Hazel checked her own phone, mumbling an apology then holding out her palm. “Give me your pen.”

“My pen?”

“You always have one.”

He dug it out of his pocket, and she wrote the date on a napkin, then held it under her face and took a selfie. “My old roommate, Sylvia, randomly demands proofs of life.”

“Like…a hostage situation?”

“Yep. Watch, she’s going to say it’s not legit unless it’s a newspaper.”

“Well, sure. Everyone knows that.”

She smiled when the text came in and showed him—That date could have been written a week ago just to throw me off!—then turned her phone down on the table.

“So, you said you’ve been summoned home.” He opened his menu. “For Christmas?”

“And a wedding.”

“Whose?”

She forced a smile. “Channel 2’s own Dan Elliot.”

“Your dad? You’re…not psyched?”

“I don’t have strong feelings one way or another,” she said as she straightened the salt and pepper shakers. Then she scratched aggressively with her nail at a spot of dried syrup on the table.

He watched her over the top of his menu. “Touchy subject?”

“Nope. I haven’t even met her yet.”

“Have they not been together long?”

“He moved in with her and her kids last spring, I think.”

“You think,” Ash repeated.

“I didn’t commemorate the event in my diary.”

Ash smiled at her mild petulance. “She has kids?”

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