Page 71 of Sharkbait
“Well, accurate is likely too generous a term, but seriously, it’s so fun!” She runs her index finger all over him, booping places on his body as she describes the cake. “There’s a crunchy chocolatey crust, an orange sponge cake upper mantel, a lemon lower mantel, and a French vanilla inner core with silver flakes. You know, as an homage to the white-hot metallic center of our planetary home.”
“My girl made me a space cake,” Ralph rumbles and pulls her close.
“Well, my guy deserves the world, doesn’t he?” she purrs.
When they start full-on devouring each other’s faces, I take that opportunity to split. Clearly, I’m not needed here.
I find James waiting for me by the door.
“Are you sure this is okay? You’re working.” I gesture to the bar rag still in his hand and shrug on my coat.
“Not anymore.”
He folds the rag and places it on a rack behind the bar, thentosses his keys to his coworker, who catches them with ease.
“Shall we?” He offers me his arm.
I take it, and we walk outside.
And run directly into a teenager who appears to be anxiously waiting for someone.
“Whoa! What the—”
“Hello!” she says excitedly. “My name is Marthy.”
“Marthy?” I ask.
“Yeth. Marthy.”
“Oh, Marcy!”
I have no idea who this Marcy person is, but she is high energy and has one hell of a lisp.
“Pleathe excuthe my articulation thith evening,” she says. “I rethently got a palette exthpander in preparathion for long overdue brathes, and I’m not uthed to it yet.”
“Not a problem,” I say.
What is this kid doing outside of a bar on a Monday night?
James gently steps forward. “Do you need something, Marcy? Everything okay? You know this is a bar, and we don’t allow unaccompanied minors inside.”
“Oh yeth, things are more than okay, thank you. And don’t worry, my mom ith in that Toyota Priuth you thee over there, waiting for me.”
A woman waves at us through the windshield.
We wave back.
Okaaay.
“Well, then if you’ll excuse us, Marcy, we need to get going.” He looks at me and lowers his voice. “How’d you get here? The bus?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll give you a ride then?” He nods toward his car.
“Please, yeah. That would be great.”
Marcy whips out her cell phone, presses a button and holds it up.
