Page 1 of Her Filthy Grump

Chapter One

Layla

I glance out the front window of the café and groan. “There goes Gertrude again.”

“What?” Dorthey Hughes raises her empty mug and twists her head to face the street. “Ah….” She turns back and smiles. The red vinyl cushions make a rustling sound from her movements. “How many years is this now?”

“Four.”

Gertrude, the duck, waddles across the grass of the park with her bright green feathers shining under the midday sun. With each step, her yellowish-orange beak opens and closes.

Directly behind her are several puffs of brown ducklings. They all mosey in different directions. “Poor thing.” I shake my head. “This group of hatchlings seems more clueless than the last.”

Several years ago, Gertrude injured her wing and now has taken up a permanent residence at the park. The longer she’s been there, the later her ducklings’ hatch. This year, they’re months behind schedule.

I grasp Dorthey’s mug, fill it with steaming black coffee and return it to the table. The scent of dark roast swirls around the table. “Is this, okay?”

She peers inside and nods. “Perfect. I don’t want too much, or it’ll keep me up all night. I can’t afford to have a lot of caffeine in the late afternoon if I want to be in bed by eight o’clock.”

“I understand.” How many times have I heard this story?A wave of nostalgia flows through me. I’ve been here for five years. In the summers, I worked weekdays. During the school year, I worked two days a week. I even came back while in college and worked on Saturdays.

My head spins. Never mind. Math is not my strong suit. “Tell me if you need anything else.”

She reaches out her wrinkled hand and clasps mine in hers. Her fingers shake a little more this year than last. “Dear, you have such a lovely spirit. Tell me. Why hasn’t some guy swooped in and knocked you off your feet? I’ll never forget the first time I saw Mr. Hughes. God rest his soul.”

“I don’t know, Dorthey. Maybe someday.” Mr. Right has got to be around here somewhere, and I’ll find him. Never give up is my motto. So what if all the guys I dated in college never lived up to the image of what I’m searching for in a man? The men in my family have big shoes to fill. “Have a great day.”

“You, too.” She pats my hand and then stares into her mug. Her face is wistful as she seemingly drifts off into her memories of being wooed by her deceased husband.

That’s what I want–a love so vivid that sixty years later, I’m still remembering being swept off my feet.

I sigh and step to the next table. My day is filled by idle chitchat with the regulars, and over the years I’ve seen dozens of waitresses come and go. Most of them can’t hack the monotony. I love it. Not that this is the only thing I want to do with my life.

Someday, I want to open my own photography studio. Years ago, Madeline Harden took me under her wing, and I’ve had the photo bug ever since.

The screech of car tires jerks me out of my musings, and there in the middle of the street is Gertrude with her entourage. The driver of the Land Rover opens the door and waves his hands frantically at Gertrude. She hops in the air, and her neck stretches out as she quacks in frustration.

I get ya. It must be a bear trying to herd those ducks across the street.I chuckle at her antics.

The man tugs on the collar of his suit jacket and hollers as his face turns crimson.Calm down, Mr. Big Shot.He slides back into the vehicle.

As the door slams shut, the entire vehicle rocks from the force of his anger. I cringe. He’s going to make himself sick.

The Land Rover surges forward, and I gasp. “Oh, my God.” I set down the coffee pot with a clang. “I’ll be right back.”

Without looking to see if my boss,Blanche, heard me, I march to the front door and yank it open. The dark-haired, impeccably dressed man revs the engine, but Gertrude doesn’t budge.

That asshat had better not run over Gertrude or any of her babies. Or I’ll…. I’ll, what? I shake my head. Exactly, what am I going to do? Spank him?

I spread my arms wide, and a stiff breeze blows at the fabric of my ankle-length dress. Thankfully, the wind isn’t blowing any harder, or I’d end up with my ass hanging out.

When the man guns the engine again, I run in front of his vehicle and stop. He glares and rolls down the window. “What’re you doing?”

“Saving these precious animals before you run them over.”

“Get out of my way.” He lifts his arm and studies his wristwatch. “I’m supposed to be upstate in an hour.”

“Then, you should have left more time for your commute.” I swivel and slowly approach the duck. “Hey, girl. You’ve got a beautiful family. Let me help you get them back into the park.”

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