Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 117357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
It’s a dangerous game to play, and half the time I convince myself I made our few encounters out to be more important than they were. Case in point, the last time he ate breakfast here, he didn’t even say goodbye to me on his way out. He left without a smile or wave.
I’ve convinced myself it’s the last time I’ll see him. The Olympic Games are going to start in a few weeks. Practices could have ramped up. Maybe he’s too busy to visit Dale’s anymore. Maybe he doesn’t find me that interesting after all.
It’s the late morning and there’s the usual lull between the breakfast and lunch rush. I’m rolling silverware and waiting on Christine to arrive when the bell dings, and I spin around so fast I tweak my back a little.
It’s not Ben walking in, but for once I’m not disappointed by that fact.
“Oh my god, that smell,” Leanna says, stopping just inside the front door and inhaling deeply. “I want one of everything you have.”
I laugh and wave her over to the counter. She’s adorable in her summer dress and flats. She plops her Chanel bag on the counter without a lick of pretense and then grins at me.
“I’ve come to try out Dale’s for myself. The guys won’t shut up about the food here.”
“Oh yeah? What do you feel like? Breakfast or lunch?”
Her eyes light up with all the possibilities. “Hmm…breakfast for sure.” Then she tilts her head, mulling it over. “Or maybe lunch? God, that burger was so good the other day.”
I laugh and turn to talk to Cook back in the kitchen. “Can you get me a classic breakfast with buttermilk pancakes on the side and a BLT with extra bacon and French fries?”
I hear Leanna groan in ecstasy behind me. “Yes. Yes to all of that.”
I head back to her, getting her some water before I lean my elbows on the counter. “Food will be out in a minute. How’ve you been?”
She shrugs. “Bored out of my mind to be honest. You?”
I shrug. “Busy.”
“You work here every morning?”
“Most.”
“And then you clean houses after?”
I nod.
“Do you have to clean this afternoon?”
“Yeah, just a short job over at the town’s dentistry office. They close early every now and then so I can give the place a once-over.”
“Need a second pair of hands?” she asks, hopeful.
I laugh and point to her Chanel. “If you’re in need of money, you could hawk that handbag and make more than I do in a month.”
Her cheeks flush with color. “It’s not…I’m fine. Just…you have to clean, so I thought I could help. Maybe if we finish early we could do something fun after?” I must not look convinced because she goes on. “You know before I married Trey, I was a nursing assistant. Which might sound kind of nice, but really, I was a glorified ass-wiper. If you think I haven’t seen it all, cleaned it all, you’re sorely mistaken. I’m not some snob.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “Alright, fine. But I can’t split the money with you or anything—”
“Of course. That’s fine. I could just use the company. Now…what should we do once we finish up. Does this town have a spa?”
Mable’s place reminds me of Truvy Jones’ salon in Steel Magnolias. She operates it out of the front end of her ranch-style house, and when we first walk in, it’s a real feast for the senses. Hot rollers everywhere, messy containers of hot wax, outdated 1980s wallpaper, vinyl beauty chairs, and big hairdos.
There’s a handful of women inside at various stages of pampering. One sits underneath the heater, soaking in a worn Nora Roberts paperback. Another is getting her hair shampooed in a mint green sink by Mable’s assistant, Belle. She smacks the gum in her mouth and tells us to have a seat by the window until they can take us.
“You both in for a cut?”
She’s eyeing our hair like she’s trying to decide where to start whacking.
Leanna’s eyes are wide when she looks at me. She’s terrified of what these people will do to her lush black hair, and I can’t say I blame her. Mable and Belle know how to do one hairstyle: bouffant.
“How about just two manicures?” I tell Belle before throwing a little wink at Leanna.
We end up having to wait a while, but we don’t mind. It’s fun being in Mable’s and listening to the gossip. There’s no shortage of it.
“Another baby—you’re kidding me! Hardly takes care of the first two they got—”
“He was supposed to retire last year, but he has his eye on that widow, Mrs. Patricia, and she’s got a real nasty spending habit. She’ll drive him straight into the poorhouse if he’s not careful.”
“She wants to cancel the chili cookoff at the church and replace it with something healthier. I ’bout slapped her ’cross the face. Who does she think she is messing with traditions like that? The chili cookoff! What’s next?! No more wine with communion?”