I don’t own a cell phone, so I have no way to check where this address is. But I know a way to find out, so I head toward Main Street.
The bell over the door jingles when I step inside Tony’s Ice Cream. I’m in luck, and there are no customers.
Cindy looks up from wiping down the counter.
“Hey, girl. How are you doing?”
I met Cindy when I first hit town. She’s about my age and trying to make her way in life. We bonded over our shared love of crafting.
“Can you look up this address for me?” I hand her the gum wrapper.
“Sure.” She pulls her phone out and puts in the information, then turns the screen toward me. “It’s seven miles down Highway 98.”
“Oh, my God. It’s right on the bay.” Stillwater, Alabama sits on the eastern shores of Mobile Bay, but waterfront property is the ritzy side of town, and one I’ve never seen. I’ve yet to even see the bay since I arrived in town.
“So, what’s at this address?”
“A possible nanny position.”
She lowers the phone and frowns. “You’re not at the diner anymore?”
“I got fired this morning.”
“What? Why?”
“I gave an old man a free meal.”
“Nick fired you? That dick. I remember he was all handsy when I worked there.”
“He still is.”
“Then you’re better off finding a new job.”
“That’s what I’m hoping this address will turn out to be.” My shoulders slump. “But how long will it take me to walk seven miles?”
Cindy glances at the clock. It’s almost lunchtime. “Hey, Tony?”
A middle-aged man pokes his head out of the back. “Yeah?”
“Mind if I take my lunch break now?”
“You just started two hours ago. Your break’s not until two.”
“Pretty please? Grace needs a ride. I’ll make it quick.”
His eyes shift to me. “Oh. Hi, Grace.”
“Hey, Tony.” I give a wave.
“Fine, but be back in thirty minutes.”
“Thanks, Tony,” Cindy replies, already pulling her apron off and grabbing her purse. “Come on.”
I follow her out the back to her beater car and climb into the passenger seat.
She cranks the tunes and pops her sunglasses on.
“Let’s go find you a job.”