“If you’re not at the hotel,” Henrietta mused, “and you’re not in an apartment, then are you sleeping in your car?”
“Jesus Christ. I hope not, kid. If you are, we can?—”
“No, no.” I stopped her before she could offer to help—something I didn’t deserve. “I bought a place. I’m gonna fix it up and then sell it.”
Both women blinked.
Then Henrietta stood and sat next to her wife. It looked like this was interesting enough for her to finally join. “Was there even a house for sale?”
Marjorie frowned. “There was one. But no one’s gonna buy that piece of crap. Did you get a good off-market deal or something?”
I immediately knew she was talking aboutmypiece of crap house, but it wasn’t in my plan to give out my address. “I just found something nearby that works.”
“Works? Or is full of shit?” Marjorie’s eyes narrowed at me. “You definitely bought that pile of junk, didn’t you?”
“N-no.”
“You’re lying again. I can see it. You’re the fine owner of a pile of trash.”
“He definitely is.” Henrietta sighed. “How bad is it? Give me the details.”
“Uh, it’s fine.”
“What’s fine?” The waitress returned, eyeing us both carefully. “I was in the back with my husband, but I heard some chatting out here. What did I miss?”
I wanted to fall through the floor.
None of this was in my plan and I wasn’t sure how to stop it. I didn’t want attention. I just wanted to pass through unnoticed.
My eyes slid to the door, and I wondered if I should cut my losses and get the hell out of here. I couldn’t sit still; I was about to bolt.
“Oh, you know. Henrietta’s doll collection,” Marjorie said, and I paused. Why was she not saying everything she heard? “I need someone else to talk to about it, so I conned this gentleman into listening.”
“Poor kid,” Henrietta said with a laugh. “We’re making a terrible impression.”
I blinked. They owed me nothing, but had clearly picked up on me being uncomfortable. Why did they even care?
“Just giving him the usual welcome, huh?” the waitress asked. “This is why tourists never come here.”
“Tourists never come here because the state forgot about us,” Marjorie muttered. “I’ll never forgive them for the library.”
Our server nodded before setting down my coffee and asking for my order. Then she was gone again.
“That’s Tammy,” Marjorie explained.
“Are you sure? Her name tag says something different.”
“That’s how she gets you.” Marjorie winked.
“Is this one of those hazing things? Where you lie to try to make fun of the new guy?”
“Not this time,” Henrietta said with a smile. “She’s actually telling the truth.”
“And saving you the embarrassment of letting Tammy get one over on you. Never believe a name tag.”
“G-got it.” I didn’t have anything, actually. I was so fucking lost. Why the fuck would someone wear a name tag that wasn’t theirs?
“Try the coffee,” Marjorie said, instead of confusing me further. “Let me know what you think after you put cream and sugar in it.”
