Page 54 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

Rosie:Heading out for a bit, but I’ll text again soon!??

“You ready?” Daisy calls from the other room.

“Yep, coming!”

I tuck my phone in my pocket as I slip the green Crocs on and meet Daisy as she opens the door and walks out onto the porch.

She glances at my feet and grins. “Your shoes were a casualty of the—”

“Yep,” I cut her off.

“Well, those are, you know, a statement piece.”

I shake my head and follow her down the steps, across the grass, and eventually into the building they call the Commons.

It’s basically a large open room with a cement floor and rows of tables with benches for sitting. It’s not fancy or grand, but there’s something about it that feels homey and nostalgic. Like summer camp, which is a lot how this whole experience feels.

If summer camp had senior citizens and a golf cart–eating sinkhole.

“Come on, we’re going this way.” Daisy leads me through the Staff Only door and into the kitchen, where Booker is standing at the stove, cooking what looks like an omelet.

Connie is on the other side of a long silver counter, and Daisy walks over to a cupboard and pulls out a plate.

“What’s this?” I stare at them—these perfect strangers—and this simple act of kindness overwhelms me.

“You’re hungry, right?” Booker looks at me, and I nod. “Hopefully you like omelets.”

He’s making me an omelet? “You’re making me an omelet?” It takes a second for the scene in front of me to register.

A bagel pops up in the toaster, and Connie uses a pair of wooden tongs to pull it out and put it on the plate. “You can doctor that up however you like.” She slides it across the counter in my direction. “Jelly and cream cheese and all the fixin’s are in the fridge.” Her watch beeps. “Oh shoot. That’s my cue. I have to skedaddle. My husband is taking me out to the movies. It’s one he let me pick—that man might just get lucky tonight!” She waggles her eyebrows.

I let out one loud laugh—more surprise than humor.

Connie does a little shoulder shimmy, then calls out, “Booker, lock up when you leave.”

“I always do,” he says.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” she says. “This after-hours smorgasbord is a onetime thing. For Rosie.”

Daisy and Booker exchange a knowing look, and for the first time since I got here, I want to be in on their inside jokes.

The door swings open as Connie is about to walk out, and she lets out a dramatic gasp. “What in tarnation?!”

A heavyset man wearing a backward baseball cap lifts his hands and takes a step into the room, away from Connie. “Sorry, Connster.”

She swats him on the arm and then eyes him. “Louie, good heavens! What are you doing in here?”

He tosses a quick glance at Booker, then shrugs. “Uh, came to get a snack?”

“The Commons isclosedafter dinner,” she says. “Do y’all raid this kitchen regularly?”

They all look away, like they rehearsed it.

“Of course not, Connie,” Louie says, then quickly adds, “hardly ever.”

She shakes her head and points a finger. “You’re lucky I’ve got a hot date and don’t have time to deal with this right now.” The door swings closed behind her as she makes her exit, and from outside she shouts again, “Lock up when you leave!”

“You got it, boss!” Louie shouts and then grins as Booker walks over to the counter and expertly flips the omelet onto my plate.

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