Page 29 of Give Me Love

“What about you?”

“Same,” I reply.

“Always lived in Georgia?” he questions.

“Yep. You’d think I’d be immune to the heat.”

“Right?” he agrees. “If we aren’t by now, then I don’t think we’ll ever be.”

“So, you’re from here too then?”

He nods and rubs his five o’clock shadow before resting his hand on his thigh. I take in a breath and watch out the window as we pass by run-down buildings and scattered streetlights.

A few minutes later, we’re pulling up to a small café.

“I’ve never been here before,” I say over to him. “I guess because it’s not exactly in the city.”

“This is the best place to eat breakfast food.” He shifts the car into neutral and pulls the brake up before we both step out into the warm night air. I adjust my shorts and make sure my shirt is still tucked in.

The moon smiles above us, casting its blue light onto the small paved parking lot. I follow behind Bryce as he climbs the steps. He opens the door and steps to the side so I can walk in first.

I’m startled when a beastly man calls out, “Hey, Bryson! Come in, my boy!” He’s a tall older man with a big round belly and soft brown eyes. He wears a white shirt with pinstripe pants, and a dirty apron stretches across his belly.

I like him immediately.

He comes around the bar, and my eyes look downward as he cleans his hand on his apron and grabs Bryce’s while giving him a hard pat on the back with the other.

“I’m doing well, Monnie,” Bryce replies, looking down at me with a genuine smile.

“I see!” He laughs and turns to look at me. “And who is this lovely lady?” I notice his little cheeks turning red and his small brown eyes full of curiosity.

“Kathrine,” I say, holding out my hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Monnie.”

“Good to meet you,” he replies, grabbing my hand with a firm shake. “But, please, Monnie is fine.” He winks. “Come on and let me fix you two up something to eat. The regular for you, my boy?”

Bryce looks down at me. “I usually get two scrambled eggs, country ham, and grits. Do you like that, or would you prefer something else?”

“That sounds great to me,” I reply as my stomach growls.

“Sounds good, Monnie. Make it two.”

We head over to a nearby booth. I feel like I’ve stepped into the fifties, getting a small glimpse into days already passed as I look over the diner. The curtains are red and white gingham, and the booths are white and red vintage style with the whole seat covered in red and the white V in the middle.

The shiny tables have silver aluminum wrapped around the sides, and the floors match our kitchen apartment with its black and white square tiles.

I notice the walls are filled with pictures of men with big game. One is Monnie, but I don’t know the other.

“Who is Monnie to you?” I ask, checking out the photos.

“My uncle.”

“Oh, and the other man in the photo?” I point.

“My Pops.”

The waitress interrupts and asks us our drink order. She looks to be in her mid-twenties like me, with fire red hair in a high curly ponytail. Her complexion is white as snow, making her blush even more noticeably when she asks Bryce if he wants his usual drink, Coke.

“Yeah, Abby,” he replies and turns to me.

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