Page 33 of Second Chances
“Yes, please,” Josh smiled and held up his white ceramic cup. Muriel’s hand shook as she poured the hot liquid into Josh’s cup.
“You too, honey?”
“Yes, please.” Megan slid her cup across the table.
After Muriel left Josh leaned forward and whispered, “You don’t like to live on the edge, do you?”
“I prefer to keep my hands un-scalded,” Megan whispered back and unfolded the laminated menu. “What’s the house specialty?”
“Well, I heard that they’re fresh out of caviar, but the grilled cheese sandwich is a nice option. Or the fish and chips.”
“Do I dare ask?” Megan pointed to the sign above the cutout for the kitchen. It was a piece of lined paper scrawled with marker stating that beaver tails were on sale.
“You’ve never had a beaver tail?”
Megan’s eyes grew wide. “No. I can’t say that I have.”
“Well, I know what we’re ordering. He reached over and closed her menu and waved Muriel over to the table.”
“A beaver tail with two forks.”
“Coming right up,” she jotted the order down on her notepad and tucked it back into her apron.
“Josh, I’m not even all that hungry,” Megan protested. “I’m fine with the coffee.”
To illustrate she took a sip and nearly spat out the contents onto the table.
“Muriel likes to make it thick.” Josh grinned and poured two generous teaspoons of sugar into his coffee.
“That’s barely drinkable,” Megan whispered.
“I know, but if you add enough sugar, it’s like jet fuel. Be prepared to get everything from your to-do list checked off.”
Megan took a look around the gas station coffee shop. There were two tables of old men in work clothes all drinking coffee and playing cards. She could hear the bell ring as people walked into the variety store, clomping the snow off their boots on the rubber mat. “So how is this beavertail prepared?” she asked, afraid of the answer.
“Oh, it’s deep fried.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me? And what’s the texture like?”
Josh leaned his elbows on the table and brought his face in close to hers. He smiled mischievously, his eyes never breaking their lock on hers. He took her hand in his and Megan felt her breath hitch. But instead of holding it, he placed it on the table and smoothed it out so that her palm was flat on the cold surface. “Well, you see. When they cut the tail off the beaver, it’s really tough from all that water slapping, so they have to tenderize it.” He made a chopping motion on her wrist. Then he grabbed the salt shaker and started to roll it over her hand. “They take it in the back and drive a truck over top of it. Not a small truck like mine, but a three-quarter ton truck, it’s the only thing that will get them nice and flat.”
“Oh my god. That’s terrible.” Megan wanted to rip her hand away, to make the disgusting story stop, but she liked the way Josh’s fingers felt as they traced over the top of her hand.
“Then, once it’s nice and flat they bring it inside and rinse it off. Not too thoroughly though, the dirt texture is part of the delicacy. It’s lightly breaded and then tossed in the fryer.” Josh picked up her hand and rubbed it between both of his so that it got warm with friction.
Muriel arrived at their table and Megan held her breath as Muriel set down the plate. When she saw what was on it, she ripped her hands from Josh’s and playfully slapped the back of his hand. “It’s a donut you jerk.”
Josh’s laugh was deep and hearty, “Did you really think you were getting a dirty old run over beaver tail?”
“Yes, I did,” Megan laughed, trying to keep a straight face, “And I wasn’t looking forward to it. At all.”
“Well, you’ve gotta try this.”
Megan leaned in to smell the pastry, “Ah, cinnamon, that’s what I smelled when we walked in here.”
“The G Spot is known for their beaver tails.”
Megan took her knife and fork and cut off a side of the warm pastry, she took a bite and then melted as the warmth of the sugar and dough melted on her tongue. “The gas station is called the G Spot?”
