“My husband’s older brother owns this place,” said Evie when they pulled up to the small pub located next to the mercantile store on the main drag in Bugle. “A group of ladies from town meet here every Friday. And most other days of the week too, but Friday is the official standing date.”
McKenna followed Evie inside, the little bar winning her heart over before the door even shut behind her. Eighties decor. Everywhere. From anE.T.poster at the entrance to a framedBack to the FutureT-shirt hanging next to the Pac-Man video arcade beside the bar.
Overhead, Cyndi Lauper sang about girls just wanting to have fun, and behind the bar hung a row of vintage eighties high school letterman jackets. Standing in front of the jackets, pouring a beer from tap, a man with sandy hair lifted his chin in greeting. Maybe itwas the ambience of the bar, but he put McKenna in mind of aDirty Dancing-ish Patrick Swayze.
Evie waved at him. “Derrick, this is McKenna. McKenna, Derrick. Can we get a basket of mozzarella sticks and fried pickles?”
He dipped his chin in return.
“He’s a man of few words,” Evie said into McKenna’s ear as she ushered McKenna to the back of the bar to an eight-top crowded on one side with women who all looked like they were old enough to have been seated at this very same table inhaling a plate of nachos for a mom’s night out back in the actual eighties.
“Hey guys, this is McKenna. She’s been staying out at the bed and breakfast with Nate.”
“Ohhhh... soyou’rethe girl.” A chorus of chirps, squeals, and giggles sounded as McKenna took a seat at the table.
“I need to run to the bathroom. Be nice,” Evie said, pointing to the three women seated across from McKenna, the first wearing the largest pair of framed eyeglasses McKenna had ever seen on someone who wasn’t Harry Caray, the second revealing more cleavage than McKenna thought possible outside of Las Vegas, and the third wearing enough friendship bracelets to walk straight into a Taylor Swift concert.
“Of course we’ll be nice,” said Harry Caray Glasses, eyeing McKenna as Evie waddled away.
“Any friend of Nate’s is a friend of ours,” said Viva Las Vegas, stirring her dark soda with her straw.
“He’s practically a son to us,” added Bracelets, reaching for another cheese-slathered nacho.
“So tell us, honey,” Glasses said as all three women casually propped their elbows on the table, leaning toward McKenna. “What’s the story with you and Nate?”
“Are you two an item or what?”
“How long until we can expect grandbabies?”
At that, all three ladies started elbowing each other and cackling.
“Wow, you guys come in hot, don’t you?” said McKenna.
“Hotter than mozzarella sticks fresh out of the fryer,” said Viva Las Vegas, biting into a fried stick with a wink. “Here, help yourself.” She nudged the basket closer to McKenna.
“Thanks. And sorry to burst your bubble, but Nate and I aren’t really an item.”
“Notice how she saidreally,” said Glasses.
“Oh, I definitely noticed,” said Vegas.
“Heard it clear as a bell,” added Bracelets.
McKenna laughed to hopefully disguise the flush spreading across her cheeks. “Am I going to get away with saying anything around you three?”
“Doubt it.”
“Not likely.”
“Outlook not so good.”
More laughter followed. The song “Take On Me” started playing. McKenna’s shoulders released a bit of the tension. Maybe she needed this night out more than she realized.
Vegas leaned forward. “So who’s the secret celebrity coming to town? You can tell us. We won’t say a word.”
McKenna lifted her finger in a scolding wag. “You’ll have to come to the Dominoes Dance if you want to hear the announcement.”
Vegas wrinkled her nose back while Glasses squinted at McKenna through her frames. “Will you and Nate be going together?”
