The Endless Road to Sunshine - Nicky James Page 0,87
out the back door into the parking structure of Jason’s building, a harsh gust of frigid wind cut through my thin jacket, making me shiver.
The weather reminded me of a popular tune by Barenaked Ladies. Unable to resist, I broke into song, smiling at how fitting some of the lyrics were.
When I sang about a restaurant where hungry people liked to eat, I nudged Jason’s arm. His lips twitched as we made our way to his vehicle. He was fighting a smile, and I wanted its full effect.
We got into the car, and I tilted my head, staring at him as I crooned about how it was colder than it looked outside. Then it was chorus time. Barenaked Ladies were known for some of the best and craziest lyrics. Anyone who knew Big Bang Theory’s theme song understood this. “Pinch Me” was no exception. Unable to stop myself, I broke out into a seated dance as I raced through a jumbled mess of words that were supposed to make sense but didn’t because I forgot half the lyrics and faked it, giving it all I had. I drummed along on the dash, closing my eyes for a minute and getting right into it.
Jason didn’t say anything, but as he started the car and took us out onto the street, he was grinning ear-to-ear and shaking his head at my ridiculous performance.
It was early, and I was a bit over the top, so after my sad attempt at completing the song, I gave it a rest, and we drove the rest of the way in companionable silence. Jason smiled the whole time, and I considered that a win.
Jason took us to another part of Windsor, about as far from campus as we could get. We ended up at a diner in a questionable neighborhood. The bells chimed over the doors when we went inside. The décor looked like it hadn’t been updated since the eighties. It was a conglomeration of rusty oranges, yellows, and browns. Cheap prints of landscapes hung crooked on the walls, hiding the flaking paint that was stained and dingy.
Booths ran along the front windows while a few smaller tables with tacky plastic tablecloths were dispersed around the rest of the open space.
Jason aimed for a vacant booth.
The vinyl seating was torn and snagged my jeans as I slid into the seat. The chipped laminate table was sticky and covered in grains of salt a past customer had spilled. I brushed them aside and placed my elbows down carefully.
I scanned the restaurant. It was quiet this early in the morning. A few older men were having coffee and reading the newspaper at the counter, but that was it. Country music played softly from overhead speakers, and the scent of grease and burnt toast filled the air.
“Hands down, the fanciest date I’ve been on in years. You shouldn’t have. This is going to go to my head.” I grinned and batted my lashes to ensure he knew I was teasing.
“It was the first place that came up when I googled diners. I don’t know Windsor all that well.”
“I’m being funny. It’s fine. It’s always these little hole-in-the-wall places that make the best food. We might not live past forty, but hey, we will have eaten well.”
Jason glowered, and my eyes widened.
“Oops. I mean, we might not live past fifty, not forty, fifty. See? You have a few years left. Not many but a few.”
“You can stop talking now.” But that glimmer was back, and my chest warmed.
An older woman with silver hair, an hourglass frame, and a resting bitch face that would scare children came over and placed two mugs on the table between us. “Coffee?”
“Please,” Jason and I said at the same time.
She topped off the mugs with her lips pinched in a firm line and dropped a bowl of creamer cups on the table as she barked, “Do you want menus, or are you ready to order?”
“Menus please,” Jason said, answering for us both.
When she wandered off, I leaned across the table, lowering my voice. “She puts your scowl to shame. I’m pretty sure she could murder innocent children with her eyes alone. Did you see them? Like lasers. She could zap birds right out of the sky. It’s her superpower. She could—”
Jason kicked my foot, and I slammed my mouth closed as the woman came by again and dropped a pair of menus in the middle of the table before shuffling off.