“Yes!”Jasmine squirms.“Guess its name!”
Emma checks the menu again.“ThePinata?”
“Yes!Keep going!”
“And then the owners sold it.”
“Iknewshe’d get it!”
“To people who wanted to make it an Italian restaurant namedParmigiana.”
“You’re batting a thousand, Miss Clark.”
She grins at me.“Please, call me Emma.”
She’s just turned the tables on me.“If you call me Finn.”
She nods, then resumes her conversation with Jasmine, her voice lowered.“But these new owners were too cheap to change anything, including the decorations or the menu or the sign.So they kept all the sombreros and chili peppers and ponchos as decorations, used sticky notes to update the food choices, and wrote the second half of the name in magic marker and opened up for business.”
“Impressive, Emma,” I say.
“Thank you, Finn.And that’s why today we see the list of pizza toppings in the burrito section of the menu.”
“And under apictureof the burrito, too,” Jasmine whispers.
“We have a winner,” I say.
Emma and Jasmine giggle together.
“Now,” I say.“Guess how long ago this transition happened.”
Emma glances around again.“Six months?”
Jasmine is dying to be the one to deliver the punchline, so I gesture for her to go ahead, but add, “Indoor voice, please.”
She leans in close to Emma and whispers, “Five years.”
Emma’s eyes widen.And she bursts out laughing just as the waitress returns.
She orders spaghetti and Jasmine orders pizza, and they agree to share.I order my standard lasagna and a side salad.
I try to make conversation with Emma.She’s courteous but not exactly an extrovert.
“So, this place and the diner are pretty much the only dining options around Sweetbriar.It’s a good thing Phyllis can throw it down.The MacLaines would have starved otherwise.”
Emma smiles politely.
“You were pretty spot-on about this place.”
She shrugs and spins her straw in her red plastic water glass.“I’ve been around food service all my life.”
“Did your family own a restaurant?”
She shakes her head.“Nope.I’ve been a waitress since the age of sixteen.I know a lot about that world and, you know, the personalities usually involved.”
“I bet.”That’s all I can think to say.Emma seems like a smart woman.I wonder why she didn’t go to college and work toward a career.But it’s none of my business, of course, so I don’t ask.
I suddenly feel like a real shit.Not only did I act like a complete ass with her, but it’s also plain to see that I have no business lusting after her.My guess she’s in her late twenties, which doesn’t make her much younger than me, but there’s something about her that seems innocent.
