Her nose wrinkles as if she smells something bad. “It was going mediocre. Then you showed up.”
Shawn leans on his elbows. “And me showing up means…?”
Sometimes I wonder if my brother is a masochist.
“It means that I have to look at you. Stop smiling. You’re always doing that. It’s fucking annoying.”
“Sorry. I’ll just…” Shawn presses his lips together hard, and I think he’s trying to force the happy expression off his face, but he physically can’t manage it.
This is like watching a goofy golden retriever mooning over a black cat that’s all claws.
So cute. So sad.
“Order up,” Billy calls out. “One burger, extra pickles, and a Bunsen!”
The diner goes quiet—or at least it seems like it does—as I watch the cook’s words register on my brother’s face.
His brows crinkle. His mouth gapes. His eyes seek out mine as if I’ll explain.
“Never mind.” Darla chuckles with an evil edge. “I’m so glad my break is over for this.”
“Did he just say…a Bunsen?” Shawn asks. “Like, there is a dish at Cornfield’s namedThe Bunsen?”
George stares at me, too, only with an unreadable expression.
“It wasn’t my idea,” I mutter in my defense.
“You’re here!” Sally comes bustling out from the back office at just the right—scratch that, make it wrong—time. Pure delight is on her face as she spies the plate I set in front of my brother’s best friend. “Oh, this is perfect! You got The Bunsen.”
“The Bunsen?” Shawn repeats on a choked breath.
“Yep! It’s our new special.” She points at the chalkboard, where we seeThe Bunsenwritten in block script with the description of a Reuben sandwich with a side of “safe flight” fries in a chalk-drawn cloud. “We’re getting new menus printed this summer, and it’ll be a permanent addition then.” She clasps her hands under her chin while her daughter snickers at her side.
“I…” George stares down at his sandwich, which has a little plastic toothpick topped with an airplane stuck in it. “You didn’t have to.”
“Nonsense. You saved a member of the Cornfield family. You’re a hero. And we need a picture!” Sally herds me around the counter toward the bemused pilot, then pulls her phone from her back pocket. “Hold the sandwich, Beth. And you two get nice and close. We need to memorialize Bunsen eating The Bunsen with Beth, the waitress who owes him her life!”
“He would’ve died, too, Mom,” Darla points out. “Not like it was a selfless act.”
“You hush and take the picture.” Sally hands her phone off to my snarky friend. “I always manage to get my thumb in it.”
Darla frowns, then flicks her eyes toward my pouting brother and regains her glee. “Of course. I’dloveto immortalize this moment. Especially when people are going to be eating The Bunsen for years to come.”
“I’m going to cry.” Shawn drops his head on his arms.
“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” Darla taunts while holding up the phone. “Get closer together. Beth, tilt the plate a little bit. No, not like that, you look like you’re about to dump it on his lap. Here…” Darla hands her mom’s phone back, but only so she can stalk up to us. She has apparently decided to take the best picture of The Bunsen possible. I’d like to think it’s to please her mom.
But we all know it’s to piss off my brother.
Okay, you don’t reallypiss offShawn. He rarely gets worked up. You more pissonhim. Like Grumps enjoys doing to the neighbor’s tulips.
With brisk movements, Darla sets the sandwich to the side, palms George’s knees to manspread his legs, then grabs me by the waist and pushes me between his set of perfectly sculpted man thighs. She picks the plate back up and arranges my hands on the edges as if I don’t know how to hold a plate. Then she adds George’s hands to the mix, and I start to get what she’s going for—an action shot of me handing him The Bunsen.
Still, I don’t know why I need to be surrounded by his thighs to do that.
“Okay.” Darla backs up and retrieves the phone. “Now look at the camera.”
I do as directed, trying to wear a smile that says,Thanks for landing that plane so well. Here’s a sandwich, rather thanPlease press your knees together so I can be the corned beef in your leg sandwich.
