Biggie and the Devil Diet - By Nancy Bell Page 0,5

Miss Julia called out, as if we couldn't see them plain as day. "Oh, goody, J.R. came along. My stars, baby, you're getting tall just like your daddy." She turned to Butch. "Royce was our star basketball player when he was in high school. Remember, Ruby?"

Mrs. Muckleroy nodded, but didn't comment.

Butch was wearing a black tee shirt with a sequin chrysanthemum on the front and very tight white jeans with white tennies. "Ya'll sit down," he said, waving us toward the two empty chairs. "I've got to get back to the shop just as soon as I eat. I had to lock it up to come here since I don't have help anymore."

"I guess you're lost now that Meredith Michelle is on her glamorous honeymoon in the Bahamas." Mrs. Muckleroy held up her hand and examined her blood red fingernails.

Meredith Michelle is Mrs. Muckleroy's daughter and had worked for Butch before she got married last week. The wedding was the biggest party anybody's ever seen in Job's Crossing. At least that's what Mrs. Muckleroy says. She put up a big white tent in her backyard with a floor for dancing. I heard her tell Biggie it was the only wedding ever in our town to have a live band. Some band. It was just Buddy Green, who is still in high school, and his garage band, which is named Snot Licks. The name is painted in big red letters on their bass drum. Mrs. Muckleroy made him cover that name with paper when he played for the wedding— and she introduced the band as Buddy and the Swing Kings. Buddy said he never would have sat still for that, but this was the first time they'd ever been asked to play anywhere. He thought the wedding might lead to future gigs.

Butch rolled his eyes at Mrs. Muckleroy's last remark. "Well, Ruby, if you want to know the truth…"

"What looks good?" Biggie asked quickly, picking up her menu. "Hmmm, Mattie's got crab quiche today. I might just have that, with a fresh green salad."

"We don't have that anymore." Miss Mattie had just walked up to the table and pulled up a chair. "Norman discovered he didn't have any crabmeat, so he substituted sardines. Uggh! I had to throw the things out. They smelled up the whole kitchen. I have some nice pasta primavera though."

"I'll have that then," Biggie said.

Mrs. Muckleroy had the same thing, while Miss Julia and Butch decided on a club sandwich. Naturally, I ordered the catfish special.

"You'll like that, J.R.," Miss Mattie said. "The catfish is crusted with ground pecans and Parmesan cheese. It's a recipe I saw on the Food Network."

"Can't I just have cornmeal on mine?" I asked.

"Are you sure, J.R.?" Miss Mattie asked. "It's very good. We're serving it with a pureed red bell pepper sauce. Very elegant."

"Did Emeril do it?" Butch asked. "I just love that Emeril. Bam!" He picked up the salt shaker and pretended to sprinkle salt on the table.

"I'll just have the cornmeal," I said, "with ketchup."

Just as Miss Mattie started toward the kitchen to turn in our orders, the little bell over the door tinkled. "Oh, there's my party of ten," she said. "I'll just turn in your orders before I take care of them." She leaned down and whispered. "They're from an exclusive spa outside of town."

Biggie always taught me it was rude to stare, but you should have seen Biggie and Butch and Miss Julia and Mrs. Muckleroy staring at the new people. Their eyes like to have fallen right out of their heads. I've got to admit, I stared, too.

First came two youngish women, both thin as whispers. One had a sweet, round face with soft curls falling around it. She was wearing a sundress made of some kind of thin, floaty material. The other was the sporty type, if you know what I mean. She had short, brown hair and was very suntanned. She wore brown slacks with a cream-colored blouse and no makeup. Following them came eight teenage girls, and they sure weren't thin. Every one of them would've had a hard time sitting down in a number-three washtub. The girls were all wearing navy blue walking shorts and white blouses with red bandannas around their necks. They lumbered in and took seats at the long sides of the table. I worried about Miss Mattie's antique chairs. The two skinny ladies sat at the head and foot of the table. Before they sat down, one