Seeing the officer, Goldie sighed under her breath, “Great. Andy of Mayberry.”
The officer smiled as she entered the restaurant, stopped eating, and wiped his mouth with a napkin as she approached. She felt that not going over to his table would be rude, considering how empty the place was.
“Howdy, Miss Maraschino,” he greeted. “How’re you feeling?”
“Fine,” she answered. She looked at the man sitting with him and extended her hand, not wanting to discuss her morning state of confusion.Adapt!she thought.
“Hi. Karen Maraschino fromAdventure Escape Magazine.”
“Hello,” the man said, rising to shake her hand. He had calloused hands and a ruddy complexion. His thick, white hair was a little unruly, but it somehow suited his bib overalls, shirt, and work boots covered in dry mud.
“Maraschino?” he asked, “like the cherry?”
“Like the cherry,” she confirmed.
“Stu Frey. Like the cooking pan,” he joked. He noticed her gauze-wrapped left hand. “What’d you do to your hand?”
“Cut it a little earlier today,” she shrugged. “No big deal.”
“Maddie keeps a first aid kit behind the counter if you want to borrow it and change the dressing,” the sheriff offered.
“Good to know. Thanks. So, Stu, what do you do?”
“I’ve got a ranch a few miles outside of town.”
“Stu supplies all the restaurants with meat,” the lawman explained. “Steak, hamburger, roasts. Pork, too.”
“Allthe restaurants?” she asked, a little amused, considering the smallness of Sparkledove. “How many is that?”
“This place, Clancy’s Bar & Grill, The Pine River Inn, a bed and breakfast just south of town, and then I supply some individual families in town as well,” he replied, eyeing her overcoat. “There are pegs over there on the wall if you want to hang up your coat.”
Goldie turned to the waitress. “Is it too early for dinner?”
“No, ma’am,” the waitress replied. “The special today is meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”
“Then I’m hangin’ up my coat,” Goldie decided, unbuttoning it and heading toward the pegs.
“Why don’t you join Eli?” Stu suggested. “I was in the kitchen dropping off some prime rib for tomorrow, and just sat down to say hello. Some people prefer a nice cut of beef on Thanksgiving instead of turkey. Besides, like everything else, Turkeys are scarce this year unless you’re a hunter.” He followed her over to the wall pegs and retrieved a heavy coat with a wool collar hanging next to the sheriff’s brown suede jacket.
“You do your own processing?” Goldie asked.
“No, but I do my own deliveries afterwards,” the big man replied. He slipped on his jacket, then nodded at the sheriff. “See ya tomorrow at dinner, Eli.”
“See ya,” the sheriff replied, giving him a casual salute with two fingers.
“Nice to meet you, Karen.”
“Call me Goldie,” she corrected. “Everyone does.”
“Goldie. I like that. Happy Thanksgiving, Goldie.”
“Happy Thanksgiving,” she smiled.
Stu said goodbye to the waitress as well, then turned and left through the lobby. Goldie stepped timidly away from the wall pegs toward Eli’s table. “I don’t have to sit at your table. I can see you’re finished.”
“No, please,” he gestured. “I’ll have dessert while you have dinner. I skipped lunch, so I’m making up for it.”
She smiled politely and sat down, even though she didn’t want to. She had been practically brainwashed to be suspicious of lawmen from her years with Markie.
