Page 169 of Dream Girl
“Eh.” She shrugged.
“After we eat, we can get ice cream,” I suggested, because she should eat something. “There’s this little place that makes this farm-to-table, locally-sourced, ice cream. It’s so good. The labels even tell you the names of the cows the milk is from.”
“Okay.”
Grace and I dozed until we got to town. I pointed out the lake where we liked to take out the boat, the mountains we skied on, and my favorite shops.
“We’re people who snow ski?” Her eyebrows rose.
Wes laughed. “I know, right? We have a boat, too.”
Riley sent me a picture of her hand with a pack ring on it. Aww. I knew Spencer had one made for her, and I was glad she finally had it.
“Going boating was common where I grew up. I can even waterski. Never been snow skiing though.” Grace leaned over me to look out the window.
I’d never actually heard it calledsnow skiingbefore.
We pulled into a wooden country restaurant with a big porch. This was our favorite breakfast and lunch spot when we came up here.
The place was done up with all sorts of country decor. The server seated us immediately. It was busy but not crowded, and delightful smells tickled my nose.
I slid into the booth, placing myself next to the wall, and Grace slid in next to me, putting her head on my shoulder. Instead of sitting across from us, Wes joined us on our side. It was a snug fit, but not unpleasant.
“Is this okay?” Wes asked us.
Grace nodded, hooking her arm through Wes’, head still on my shoulder. “Yeah. Ugh, why did I drink so much?”
Same reason why she hadn’t let go of me this morning.
“Can I get you something to drink?” the server asked, giving Wes an appreciative look as he handed us menus.
“Ginger fizz, please,” I replied. I needed something to settle my stomach.
“Coffee,” Grace mumbled.
“Iced coffee–and waters for everyone,” Wes ordered.
Grace gave him a look but said nothing.
“Where exactly did you learn that you should hit shooters with chairs? That wasn’t something we learned at the Center–or in the military,” I asked, stroking her hair as the server left.
“It’s something they teach teachers in the active shooter unit of the classroom management class. Chair, fire extinguisher, anything within reach. I mean you try to keep them out, but sometimes they get in.” Her eyes closed.
“Is that common at schools where you lived? People shootingchildren?” The thought made my heart palpitate.
“Sadly. That’s why we run drills.” Her head bowed.
“That’s fucked up,” Wes said softly as the server brought our drinks.
“Yep.” Grace added a whole lot of sugar to her coffee.
Wes pushed her water toward her. She gave him a look and took a gulp of coffee. No, she wasn’t going to win that one. I took a sip of my ginger fizz.
The server came back. “What are we having today?”
“I’ll have a bacon cheeseburger and fries,” I ordered. That should do the trick. Grease and carbs.
“Fried chicken,” Wes said.
