Page 10 of Fake-Off with Fate
“I’ll text them to Mom,ifshe agrees to go with you.” I reach out my hand and demand, “Give me your phone.”
He looks affronted. “I will do no such thing. How will I be able to call anyone?”
“You’ll have Mom’s phone,” I remind him.
“But she won’t let me use her phone unless it’s an emergency.” His eyes widen as the reality of my plan starts to sink in. He tries one last time. “You can’t seriously take my phone.”
“Hand it over,” I order. Once I have ownership of his most prized possession, I point toward the door. “Let’s go. You’re going to need every minute you can get to convince Mom you’re serious about being a better husband.”
CHAPTER 6
JAMIE
Rolling over in bed,I turn off my alarm while simultaneously releasing a loud groan. It was so quiet last night I barely slept. I’m used to falling asleep to horns honking and sirens blaring, not being serenaded by crickets.
While throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I can’t help but flirt with the idea of canceling my meeting so I can go back to sleep. Yet I truly am looking forward to seeing Dale, so I push myself to shower and get dressed. Then I drive to the diner.
I find a parking spot right out front. Getting out of the car, I notice this town is even more charming than I first thought. The brick buildings look like they’re from the early part of the last century. Even the streetlights are vintage.
Walking into the restaurant, I discover it’s as old-school as it gets. The flooring is so dinged up it’s probably original to when the establishment opened, which appears to be sometime circa 1970. It’s not fancy, but I still approve. People clearly aren’t coming for the ambience, so the food must be solid.
A waitress, who looks to be in her mid-to-late fifties, greets me as soon as I walk in. Her greying hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail and she’s smiling with a genuineness you don’t usually find from service staff in New York City.
“Welcome!” she says brightly. “Just you today?” In the Big Apple this question would likely be met with an eye roll and a large dose of attitude. Like one sorry sucker sitting alone isn’t worth the effort of speaking to you, let alone taking you to a table.
“I’m meeting someone,” I tell her.
She grabs another menu and leads me to a prime spot in front of the window. “Can I bring you a cup of coffee while you wait? Maybe some orange juice?”
“Do you have espresso?” I ask, although I’m guessing they might not.
Her eyes sparkle like she’s about to share a secret. “No, but I have hot chocolate. How does that sound?” It sounds surprisingly good, so I nod my head in approval. “You want whipped cream with that?” she asks.
I suddenly feel like I’m seven years old again. “That would be great,” I tell her. As she walks away, I start to think that places like this and people like her are probably a big reason folks like living in small towns.
Dale strolls by the restaurant window which gives me a moment to observe the changes in him since we last saw each other. It’s been a couple of years, but he doesn’t seem any the worse for wear. He’s tall and still carries himself like the commander of a naval vessel. Just by looking at him you know he’s in charge of something important.
As soon as he walks through the door, he booms, “Good morning, Shirley May!” The waitress who seated me must also be the owner. “I’m meeting my captain here.”
“You go on and sit down,” she says. “I’ll bring your coffee in just a sec.”
Dale approaches the table with a smile on his face. He looks younger than his fifty-nine years. Standing up, I stretch my hand out to shake his. “It looks like small-town life is treating you well,” I tell him.
He pushes my hand away and wraps his arms around me ina hug. “It’s like every day is a vacation,” he says, repeating Troy’s sentiment. After patting me on the back, he steps away and sits down. “How’s your cabin?”
“Isolated,” I tell him.
“It’s a big change from what you’re used to.”
“No kidding. I think I heard a bear growling outside my door.” I let that statement dangle in the air in hopes he’ll assure me I must have been dreaming.
Instead of putting my mind at rest, he says, “Black bears. But don’t worry. They’ll be hibernating soon.”
Even though I’m glad to have this information, I still want to know, “And until then?”
“They’re filling their bellies to make it through the winter. Just don’t annoy them and you should be fine.”
I make a motion like I’m writing down his sage advice with an imaginary pen. “Don’t annoy the bears.” Then I look up at him and grunt, “I’m pretty sure I could have figured that out on my own.”
