Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Make meaning order some takeout. Whatever. I’d take care of the meal so Cara didn’t have to. Her large Southern family was descending upon us for Thanksgiving week, and I was not looking forward to it. The family was still miffed that she’d run away with a West Point cadet, and that was well over a decade ago. Plus, they hadn’t much cared for me at the wedding or any time since. And, of course, Craig was still deployed, so I’d have to play host along with Cara.
At least I had today and the shopping with Merry to look forward to. He pulled into Cara’s driveway in an ancient hatchback adorned with dozens of surfing-related stickers and a mount for boards or bikes on top. His large brown-haired shaggy dog sat in the passenger side seat. The dog and I regarded each other warily. His tongue lolled to one side. Clearly, he wasn’t about to move.
“Barney.” Merry tapped the dog. “Get in the back.”
The dog moved as lazily as a middle schooler coming back from a restroom break, with zero urgency and much checking to see if Merry was serious about needing to give up his seat.
“Did you have breakfast yet?” Merry asked after the dog was situated in the center of the back seat. I slid into the passenger seat, practically feeling all the dog hair jumping onto my black walking shorts. Merry had demanded comfortable shoes, and I had found the most adorable pair of sensible little hikers to pair with the shorts and a multi-pocketed khaki shirt worthy of any expedition.
“Unless we’re counting half of Stella’s toaster pastry as real food, no.” I smiled hopefully at him.
“Good. Me neither, and I’m desperate for a coffee refill.” Merry put the car in reverse. He kept to a reasonable speed inside the subdivision, but as soon as we were on the larger roads, he zoomed around like any seasoned New York cabbie. “I know a place, and it’s right by this grocery store that may have lights.”
“A grocery store has holiday lights?” I had limited experience with most big-box stores, but in my experience, grocery stores and decorating didn’t usually go together.
“This is a local chain. They carry a little bit of everything.” Merry waved one hand, driving with the other, zigging and zagging between cars. “And today, their holiday section is finally up with a sale this weekend only. I cut the coupon out of the weekly circular, and I’ll stack it with one off the app. I’m hoping we can score some cheap lights.”
“Me too.” I bounced in my seat, both from the speed and my own excitement. As a tireless bargain hunter, I loved Merry’s thriftiness. “Smart by stacking deals. I never pay full price for anything in my closet. Sample sales, secondhand shops, deep discounts.”
“Maybe you and Alyssa wouldn’t get along after all.” Merry chuckled. “My ex found sales tacky, like they reduced the designer cachet.”
“Tacky.” I snorted at the concept. “What even is the point if you can’t brag about how you scored something eighty percent off?”
“I agree on everything other than surfboards and seafood. You get what you pay for there.”
Merry pulled into an older strip mall with a gray-and-white motif. He clipped Barney to a leash, evidently intending for him to dine with us as well. The aforementioned grocery store took up most of the north end of the shopping center, while a few smaller businesses, including a breakfast spot, occupied the rest. The eatery was a cross between a diner and a food truck. It featured a walk-up window to order, no interior tables or service other than a cooler of drinks to one side of the counter, and barely enough space to turn around. Outside, an assortment of picnic tables jockeyed for space under a canopy.
“What do I order?” I whispered to Merry as we waited in a short line, studying the menu, which was scrawled on a whiteboard and featured descriptive names like The Big Hawaiian with four kinds of meat.
“Do you want sweet or savory?” Merry grabbed a can of the ubiquitous POG juice found everywhere on the island. “Sweet, you pretty much have to try the macadamia chocolate chip pancakes. They cover them in a custard sauce that is crazy good. Savory, you can’t go wrong with fried rice with a side of Portuguese sausage.”
“I can’t decide.” My sweet tooth wanted that custard sauce, but my waistline said I needed protein. And my inner foodie wanted all of it. “Both, and we can split?”
“Sure.” Merry was as easygoing as always. “Oh, and the coffee here is drip, but it’s hot and good.”
“Are you warning me not to ask for hazelnut salted caramel oat creamer?” I teased.
Merry shuddered. “That such a thing exists is an abomination.”
I laughed lightly, relieved Merry drank coffee instead of running on some wheatgrass concoction like I’d initially assumed upon our first meeting. Merry was turning out to be so much more than that first impression. He might look the part of hot surfer dude, but he was also a compassionate teacher, a good dad, and a decent tour guide.