“I was going to say that I wouldn’t do such a thing, but itisawful cozy wrapped up on the couch watching old movies.”
Mom’s unfortunate step off a sidewalk three weeks ago made her unable to fulfill her promise to her best friend, Maggie Marshall. How could she keep up with Maggie’sspiritedteenage granddaughter with a cast on her leg?
Answer: she couldn’t.But I could.So my mom volunteered me for the position before I knew what was happening.
That’s what being unemployed and moving in with your mom will get you—even if you’re thirty.
“I’m taking it you made it to town,” Mom says.
“Yeah.” I tell her about breaking down but stop short of the story. She’ll panic. “It’s all good. I’m going to the Marshalls’ tomorrow to meet Maggie’s son and his daughter. Just standing outside The Wet Whistle to get a sandwich right now.” I glance up at the sign. “Cute name, huh?”
“Go eat. I know how you get when you’re hungry. Just let me know when you’re back in your hotel room.”
I smile. “I will. Love you, Mom.”
“Love you.”
I slide my phone into my pocket and tug open the door to the bar.
It’s bigger than I expected based on the outside and much cozier. A couple sits under a giant stuffed turkey flanked by two deer heads. The man and woman smile politely before going back to their drinks. A man at the far end of the bar nods before turning back to the television and giving me a clear view of his Tucker’s Towing shirt.
At least the diesel guy didn’t lie.
I reach the bar beneath a ceiling covered with dollar bills and eighties rock music playing through hidden speakers. A light flickers at the back of the building, and I spot a chalkboard wall. Everything from song lyrics to tic-tac-toe games to a plate lunch menu for the upcoming week is written in different colors.
“I haven’t seen you around before.”
The bartender walks my way as I slide onto a barstool. His full head of sandy-colored hair is mussed up like he gave in and let it do whatever it wanted. His eyes are light, too, and playful—just like his smile.
“Probably because I’ve never been here before,” I say.
He stops in front of me and sets his towel down. His friendly face is instantly likable.
“Where is everyone? Patti said this was the most exciting venue in town,” I say.
“Patti isn’t wrong. But she just must’ve forgotten that the Peachwood County Fair is this week, and everyone who’s anyone is there.”
I smile at him. “I see. So if you’re here, what does that make you?”
“Someone who doesn’t like kids, and all the kids are at the fair.”
I laugh. “Fair enough.”
“So what can I get ya this evening?” He grins. “A drink? Food?Therapy?”
“While I could probably use a little therapy and a drink after the day I’ve had, I was just hoping for a sandwich.”
“I can make that happen.” He digs around under the bar, then presents me with a laminated menu. “Ignore the stuff on the front. We’re on a skeleton crew in the kitchen after dark.”
I quickly skim the offerings. It’s a variation of hamburgers and grilled cheeses.
“I’ll take a cheeseburger and a Sprite, please,” I say, handing him the menu back.
“Run it through the garden?”
“Huh? I have no idea what that means.”
“You know, do you want all the stuff on it? Lettuce, tomato, onion, pickles.”
