Page 16 of A Very Merry Mistake

She breathes out. “Thank you. That was kind.”

I give her a smile, and I see one touch her lips. “It’s called manners, ma’am. Sorry you haven’t been around a bunch of people who have them.”

She nods so slightly that I wonder if she meant to.

“Now, make sure you’re buckled,” I tell her, reaching around her front and pulling it over her before snapping her in. I think I see her breath hitch as I meet her gaze. “Can’t have you riskin’ anything else today.”

She double-checks the belt. “You’re right.”

I put my blinker on to drive back into town. The rain is falling so heavily I can barely see a foot in front of me.

“You hungry?” I randomly ask, knowing if we bide our time we might be able to find a break in the storm so it’s less dangerous to be on the road.

“Actually, I’m starving, but I didn’t want to say anything.”

“I love to eat, and I love to cook. You ever tried chicken fried chicken?”

“No. I don’t eat a lot of carbs.”

“Ahh. You’re one of those. Might have to ditch that philosophy while you’re here.” I chuckle.

She sighs. “I had planned to eat my way through the café’s menu since it was within walking distance of the inn.”

“You still can.” I park a few feet from the door of the building, and my stomach growls loud enough for her to hear it.

“Let’s take this conversation inside,” she suggests.

I give her a nod, not remembering the last time I ate. I skipped lunch and had a cola at Hanks. So it must’ve been that shitty granola bar I grabbed off my grandmother’s counter this morning when I brought her newspaper inside.

Damn. I really lost track of time today.

When we walk inside, the hearty smells of bacon on the grill makes my mouth water. There is only one other person eating.

Glenda greets us at the entrance and grabs two menus. She smiles at Claire, then waggles her brows at me. I playfully roll my eyes as she leads us to a booth that overlooks the parking lot. We both slide in as the menus are placed in front of us. Claire opens one, but I focus on her since I’ve got it memorized. I’ve only been eating at this place for as long as I can remember.

“Whatchoo two kids havin’ to drink?” Glenda asks, smacking her gum. She’s an older woman who draws a mole on her face. Over the years, it’s definitely changed locations. The woman has a heart of gold and would always bring me and my brother extra syrup with our pancakes when we were kids. We would literally drink the stuff it was so yummy, but most homemade things are.

“I’ll take a coffee,” I say. “Cream and sugar.”

She points at the table. “Sugar is there.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say as Claire orders the same.

A few moments later, Glenda places two mugs on the table. Then she sets down a miniature pitcher of cold cream that came from the fridge.

“Need a minute?” She gives us a warm smile.

“Yeah, please,” Claire says.

As Glenda walks away, she shoots me a wink. This is exactly how rumors get started.

Claire reads the text on the outside of the mug that’s in a funky font that matches Glenda’s personality. “Glenda’s Café. Cause there’s no place like home.” She smiles. “Cute marketing.”

Then she goes back to reading.

Claire eventually notices I’m staring. “What?”

I shake my head. “Nothin’. You just look like you can’t make up your mind.”

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