Page 14 of A Dead End Wedding

“What movie?”

Okay. No movies in the swamp. Or else his movie taste didn’t run toA Christmas Story.

“Never mind. I’d like to have lunch with you.” I turned to wave Jack over, sending my fiancé alook.“We’d like to have lunch with you, because you’re new to town, and we’d like to get to know you. To make friends.”

The troll scowled, but when Jack approached, his scowl turned into a grimace. “Not the cat. Cats smell bad.”

Jack returned his scowl with interest. “That’s a clear case of the pot calling the kettle?—”

“Jack! I’m sure Mr. … ah?” I beamed my best smile at the troll, who tilted his head and gave me a very confused look.

I smiled even wider. Persistence is one of my strengths, or so I’ve been told. Usually by people who don’t appreciate it, but whatever.

“I’m Braumsh,” he finally muttered. “Yes, you can eat with me. Maybe not the cat.”

“The cat comes with me,” I said, before Jack could say something rude. “We’re getting married in ten days.”

“You could do better,” Braumsh said, in a voice like breaking rock.

I blinked. Maybe Braumsh and Anastasia the dog knew each other?

No. That was silly.

“I definitely could not do better,” Jack said silkily, deliberately misinterpreting the troll’s remark.

“So, what’s the special, Lorraine?” I waved her over. “I know there’s no point in looking at the menu.”

“Cheeseburgers, fries, and chocolate cake,” she said briskly. “Who wants what?”

“Milkshake,” Braumsh said.

“We don’t?—”

“MILKSHAKE.”

Lorraine clenched her jaw, and I knew what was coming, so I intervened. “Maybe you could whip one up just as a welcome to town, Lorraine?”

She paused, but then nodded. “Fine. What else?”

“I’ll take the special. No mayo, extra pickles, please.”

“Tess Callahan, do you think I don’t know you don’t like mayonnaise? I’ve known you since you were a baby!”

“Want burgers. Fries. Milkshake,” the troll said.

“How many burgers?”

“Six burgers. Many fries. Milkshake.”

“Got it. Jack?”

Jack smiled at Braumsh. It wasn’t a friendly smile. “I’ll have seven burgers.”

The troll leaned forward, his gaze locked on Jack. “Eight!”

“Nine,” my stubborn, annoying tiger said.

“TEN!” the troll roared.

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