“Where are y’all headed to?”
“Wherever the wind takes us,” the little girl answered. “We’re on a road trip until my school starts back next week.”
“I’ll be right back with your drinks and get your order.”
Scarlett came up behind me and whispered, “The woman at the bar ordered a cup of coffee and a stack of pancakes. Buddy is buying her breakfast, and I’m pretty sure she will leave with him. She isdefinitelya truck bunny.”
A memory flashed into my mind. Frank and I were in a little roadside place like the Tumbleweed when he noticed a woman sitting in a back booth. I’d thought for sure he would leave me and go talk to her, but when a trucker came inside, she latched on to him. Frank had looked disappointed, but he didn’t say anything. I never saw or met one of the women who left him smelling like booze and cheap perfume, but I knew at a young age that the women he stayed out with all night were not like my mother.
When the place was finally empty, Scarlett plopped down into a chair and wiped her forehead with a bar towel. “Whew! That was fast and furious.”
I eased down in a chair across the table from her. “Having all those whiny kids made it seem worse than usual. I was too busy to even notice if the pink-haired lady left with Buddy.”
“She did, and I don’t know how she can stand him. He drives a semi and stops by every few weeks. Matilda could keep him in line, but since she’s been gone ...” She shrugged. “I keep my distance from him. You’d do well to do the same.”
“Thanks for the warning, but I’ve seen men like him before at poker tables. If he ever pushes his luck and touches you, we will buy three shovels and bury him beside a big old yucca plant. We wouldn’t want to make the coyotes sick.” I stood up, picked up an eraser, and removed yesterday’s special from the board. “I saw a sawed-off shotgun under the counter. I expect that would do the trick.”
She gasped. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, I am.”
“You are a lot tougher than I thought you would be,” Scarlett said. “Got a question, though: You called them ‘whiny kids.’ Don’t you like children?”
“Depends on whether they are whiny or not.” I finished cleaning the board and turned around to face Scarlett. “What about you? Do you ever want to have a family?”
Her eyes lit up. “Yes, I do. I want a husband who treats me like a queen and a whole yardful of kids. Don’t you?”
“My lifestyle has never had room for that,” I told her.
“Then change it,” she said. “You aren’t too old to have children.”
“Ouch,” I said and moved over to the board where the specials were written. “What goes up here today?”
“This is Saturday. That means beef tips over noodles, green beans, a house salad, and a bowl of peach crisp, all for the price of ...” She quoted the price with a grin. “Wait for it, wait for it ... You get a free drink with the order, and there’s no charge for a scoop of ice cream on top of the dessert.”
“Every Saturday?”
“Yes, and Sunday is chicken and dressing. Monday is spaghetti and meatballs, and so on. The same thing on each day of the week—but I don’t mind. I love every one of them.”
I wroteSaturday’s Lunch Specialand then what Scarlett had told me. Evidently, in this part of the world, Groundhog Day lasted a week.
“I’m going for a jog,” I said at the end of the day. Whether in a gym or a run around a parking lot in a motel, exercise had always cleared my mind after days of riding in a vehicle or sitting at a poker table.
“Are you crazy?” Scarlett asked. “It’s cold out there, and the weatherman says we’re in for some snow. A lot of it by the middle of next week.”
“Maybe so, but I need some exercise.”
“Don’t you get enough by running from one table to another?” Rosalie asked.
I slipped on my hoodie and shook my head. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Either of you want to join me?”
“I wouldn’t make it to the end of the parking lot,” Rosalie answered.
Scarlett waved away the idea with a flick of her wrist. “And I’ve got a date tonight, so I’m taking a short nap before I get ready. If your hands turn blue or if you fall over by the side of the road, call me. I’ll come and get you. Which way are you going?”
“North, since there won’t be as much traffic.” I did a couple of stretches and then stepped outside. With every breath, I seemed to suck icicles into my lungs. I dug into my pocket, brought out a disposable mask, and covered my mouth and nose with it. That helped a little, but not much.
“See there? If I look deep enough, there’s a solution to everything—even cold air.” I fast-walked out to the road and then sped up.
