Page 33 of Forgotten Pieces

I walk in The Scrambled Egg, the diner owned by Ivy. I wave at her as she serves the Sergeants up in the front corner and head back into the kitchen.

“You look much better now that you finally got some sleep,” Rae says, barely lifting her head as I walk in.

“Gee thanks, sis. But it’s probably just the makeup.”

She sets down the frosting bag in her hand and studies me fiercely. “It might be that you combed your hair too. When was the last time you did that because I swear there was a bird nesting in it this morning.”

“Ha ha. I’ll have you know I actually washed it too.”

“You better not have used all my shampoo!”

I shake my head. “I went to the store and bought you more since I needed the entire bottle for this mess.”

She smiles at me and goes back to frosting her cupcakes.

“Thanks for letting me crash this morning. And once again I am sorry I interrupted your sexcapades.”

“Trust me, Brooks can wait until later. He woke me up from the middle of a great dream. Asshole.”

I laugh. “All men are. You leaving soon? Want to grab a bite?”

Rae looks up at the clock on the wall. “I would, but I told Brooks I would be home around three. He wants to take me somewhere tonight.”

“Oooh, a sexy, romantic date?”

“Unlikely. He probably found some conspiracy meet up tonight and wants to drag me there.”

“I thought you got into that stuff.”

“I did. But I would much prefer the romantic date.”

“Well, have fun with wherever he takes you. I’m gonna grab a bite and then head next door.”

She sets down her frosting bag and gives me a hug. “Don’t be a stranger, Tacoma. We don’t mind if you stay with us.”

I sigh. “I know, but I feel like a burden on everyone. Besides, I might not be here much longer.”

“Where you gonna go?”

I shrug. “Who knows.”

Anywhere but here.

* * *

“I’m telling you Cam, this place is just as boring as it was when I moved away. I have nothing to do with my time except drink and work. And since it’s hard as hell to get around here when you’re drunk, all I have been doing is working. Six days a week.”

“Damn girl,” she says into the phone. “I hope you’re at least making money.”

I grab a beer for the one customer I have and then continue talking to Cam. I know I shouldn’t be on the phone while I’m working, but I’ve had the same customer in here for the last hour. “Depends on the day. Right now, it’s as dead as a doornail. I’ve wiped the bar down five times and done inventory.”

“I guess small town bars aren’t like Manhattan bars.”

“The complete opposite.”

I hear the honking of horns in the background and I know she has left the office. “I wish I could come visit you. But we just got a new account and I am working my butt off. I have been at work since six in the morning and I am just stepping out to grab us food.”

“Why didn’t you just get it delivered?”

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