Page 43 of Starry with a Chance of Nightshade

“Shieber,” the gathered crowd said in unison, shutting the man up.

Peggy twisted and thrust the plate at me. “Eat.”

I stood there, dumbfounded.

“Good Lord, child,” she said, tsking as she looked me up and down. “Take the plate. Put the food in your mouth. Chew. It ain’t rocket science.”

Stunned, I didn’t react fast enough for her.

She glanced down at my old, broken-in matte-black Dr. Martens. She then raised a brow at my baggy army-green cargo pants before doing a rather long blink when she got to my cropped vintage Fleetwood Mac T-shirt. I wore a long, thin, dark gray duster over the shirt. The sleeves covered my arms. I had a matching knit cap on my head with my hair hanging down in two long braids.

Peggy shook her head. “Child, the temp is supposed to be around ninety again today. You’re dressed for cold weather and possibly to enlist in the military.”

I tugged at the sleeves of my thin duster, making sure they were down.

Peggy lifted a brow. “If you’re trying to hide tattoos, don’t bother. I got me three and Yolanda won’t give a fig if you’re covered in them.”

The edges of my mouth drew up slightly, hearing how Peggy had three tattoos. I really wanted to ask where and what they were, but I resisted.

“Now eat,” she warned, thrusting the small plate in my face.

Faye hurried around the counter next, easing the plate from Peggy. “Thank you. I’ll help. Let’s not risk knocking her out with a plate-to-the-face incident.”

Peggy shrugged and then went straight to the glass-front refrigerator and pulled out juice. She retrieved a cup, never needing to stop and look for anything. It made me wonder if she should have been the one training me early this morning. She poured a small bit of juice in the cup and then was back, thrusting it at me.

Faye cast me a pleading look. “Drink. Peggy is a retired army nurse. She’ll force it down you if you don’t. Don’t let the fact that she’s nearly ninety fool you. That woman is strong as an ox.”

Peggy gave a curt nod, her chin jutting out. “Damn straight. Drink.”

I did, more out of fear of Peggy than thirst. She was nearly ninety? She had more pep in her step than I did, and I was forty. Clearly, I needed to be doing what she’d been doing.

She continued to watch me as I downed the juice and went as far as to grab the muffin off the plate Faye was holding and shove it at my mouth.

Admitting defeat, I took a bite off the top and Peggy nodded in satisfaction. “Good. Now, what can we help with back here?”

I brought a hand to my mouth, trying to cover it as I spoke. “Nothing. I have it. I swear. Thank you.”

Ignoring me, she nodded to Faye. “You know how to work any of these contraptions back here?”

“I do,” said Angela, hurrying around, making the prep area fill with people quickly. She took the cup I’d written on and read the markings. “Okay, half-caff with soy and sugar-free vanilla syrup.”

That sounded much better than what I’d read.

“Me,” said a woman in a power suit as she scrolled through her phone.

“Like we needed to be told which of you ordered that fancy-pants drink,” said Peggy with a huff. She looked out at the gathered crowd. “Anyone just getting regular coffee? None of that new-wave crap?”

A number of hands shot up.

She nodded. “All right, line up in an orderly fashion at the other end of the counter. No pushing. No shoving. No Shieber. He can just have a seat and wait until I’m done. I’ll get the rest of ya squared away while—” She twisted to look at the name tag on my apron and lifted a brow. “Astria?”

I nodded before offering more information than required. “It means ‘star.’”

“Oh good, another hippie chick. Like Bram’s new wife wasn’t enough,” she mumbled before saying something about talking to a squirrel, making me wonder who Bram and his wife were. “Star Child over there is gonna eat the rest of that muffin.”

“I am?” I asked.

Faye nudged me, her eyes widening. “You are.”

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