Page 37 of Flowers in Your Hair

“Toodaloo, Cindy,” Earl teases as he leaves the shop. Andrew holds me for another moment, listening to a car start in the driveway and pull away.

“That’s one way to start the morning.” Andrew laughs. “Sorry about that. He comes and goes as he pleases, and usually it isn’t a problem. I should have remembered that he always stops by on Monday mornings, though.” Andrew hesitates, clearing his throat before continuing. “He goes to a grief group at the library on Monday mornings. He’ll never admit it, but it’s helped him a lot since we lost Grandma.”

I turn in his arms, wrapping my arms around his waist. “It’s gotta be hard. I can’t imagine losing the love of your life, so unexpectedly.”

Andrew nods, hugging me to him, his head in the crook of my neck.

“He had a really tough go for a while, but he’s gotten much better.” Andrew pulls back from our hug, looking at the clock on the wall behind me. “Shoot, do you need to be at work this morning?”

I shake my head. “No, I work at noon, a short shift today, so I have time.”

“Wanna get breakfast?” he asks, voice hopeful.

“Yes please, but can we stop by my house first, so I can change?”

“What, you don’t want to be seen in public wearing my clothes?”

I scoff. “Unfortunately, I have to say no. For now at least.”

“So there’s a chance?”

I shake my head. “Sure,” I answer with an easy laugh.

Clanging noises sound from the kitchen, music blaring, amidst loud voices talking back and forth. Andrew chose to drive us a town over for breakfast, claiming this diner has the best biscuits and sausage gravy. I’m not complaining though. The twenty minute drive just means I get to spend more time with him.

“Hey, kiddos,” an older gal greets us at the hostess stand. She eyes our interlocked hands, a small smirk toying on her lips. “Just two?”

“Yep,” Andrew says, squeezing my hand as he speaks.

The waitress, who’s name tag reads Louise, directs us down the aisles of booths to the far corner, giving us some semblance of privacy. She motions for us to sit, then offers us two menus. “Coffee? Water? Bloody Mary?” she asks, whipping out her little writing pad.

“Coffee and water, please,” I say, giving her a soft smile.

“Water, and a small apple juice, please,” Andrew states.

Louise doesn’t write down our order, simply turns and heads to the POS system at one end of the counter.

For a Monday morning, this place is hopping. Nearly every seat at the counter is filled, and every booth. The few scattered tables are all full too.

“This is a pretty busy place,” I muse.

Andrew looks up from his menu. “Oh yeah, breakfast is their big meal. Come here at four o’clock and you won’t see more than five people. The food is still great, but breakfast is their primary crowd.”

“Hmm,” I mutter. I turn my attention back to the menu, scanning, looking at the abundance of options. Of course, I’ll probably end up getting the biscuits and sausage gravy like Andrew suggested, but I still want to browse, see if there is anything else that might catch my eye.

We don’t speak as we look, but it’s thankfully not an awkward silence, the kind where you’re avoiding conversation. I don’t think I’ve experienced that with Andrew yet.

Louise drops down our drinks on the table, as well as a cup of individual creamers for me. “Ready to order?” she asks, a forced smile on her face. Her voice is gruff, and slightly impatient, but I don’t think it has anything to do with us. Just the way her voice is, and her job.

“Yes,” Andrew and I say at the same time.

We take our turns ordering, both of us getting the biscuits and sausage gravy and hash browns. Once Louise is away, I open a single creamer, and pour it into the black coffee, then add a sugar packet, stirring it with the spoon I unwrapped from the napkin.

“Not a coffee drinker?” I offer, starting up the conversation.

Andrew shakes his head. “Nah, I don’t have much of a need for it. I have enough energy as it is. If I had any more, I would probably never sit down. You?”

I nod. “To be honest, I don’t drink it often, but when I’m out for breakfast like this, I love to have something warm to drink. It’s a weird comfort thing.”

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