Page 24 of Coming Up Roses

"Ten-four." He refills his glass, and we both soak in the slightly awkward silence. I think we’re both waiting for the other to speak, and finally, he does. "So, whatcha got going on this weekend?"

"Oh! The Strawberry Festival. Have you ever been?"

"Nope. Tell me about it?"

"Well, it's mostly arts and crafts, but they have the most amazing strawberry shortcake. I go every year just for that little slice of heaven."

He thinks on my words for a few, and then he asks me where the festival is, and I tell him. "Great," he says, his smile a mile wide. "I'll meet you there around eleven?"

"You'll what?"

"You heard me, darlin'. See you Saturday." That quickly, his glass is in the sink and he's out the door.

What on earth just happened?

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