The restaurant memories are clear. I do recall breaking down the toilet door to rescue her when the doorknob broke.
I recall returning to the burger bus.
I recall Bea frying corn dogs and chips while wearing that red dress.
And everything is hazy and murky after that.
“Burgers!” Charlie shouts, drawing the attention of half the carnival goers, who have now spotted me.
Whispers and murmurs race through the crowd.
Tank sighs.
Pinky sighs.
Butch sighs.
“Do we have extra painkillers?” I murmur to Butch.
“Two more hours before you can have more,” he replies.
I suppose this is my punishment for having a retired army medic in my security detail.
“Mr. Luckwood will sign autographs by the bounce house after he’s had a chance to enjoy the carnival,” Pinky tells a small crowd of people approaching us.
Translation: I’ll interact with the public once my hangover has died down a bit more.
“Can we get burgers, Dad?” Charlie says.
“I want a double patty with triple fries, and I still want to try the fish,” Eddie says.
“Do you think she has fish today?”
“Why wouldn’t she have fish? It’s a good day for a secret menu.”
“But if no one knows, will they order it?”
“That’s why you go on socials, you jackass.” Eddie whips out his phone and shoves it at Charlie.
I peer over their shoulders and spot an advertisement for Bea’s burger bus announcing secret menu items at the carnival today. Fewer than a dozen people have liked the post, and none have commented.
So odd.
Her food is delicious, and heaven knows she handed out enough free fish last weekend that she should have gained a larger following.
“See?” Eddie says. “She has fish. Let’s go get some.”
“It might not be fish. It might be a secret something else,” I point out.
Both of my children roll their eyes at me, then take off at a much-too-fast clip for my liking.
Both because my body still prefers slow and sloggy, but also because I don’t quite know what to say to Bea today.
Or why I’m feeling as eager to see her as my boys are to have more of her food.
“Did Ms. Best get as drunk as I was last night?” I murmur to Tank.
“She was sober as a doorknob before the two of you got in the burger bus,” he replies.
