rusted trailer out in the field, too. Belonged to my grandfather. Owen and I would climb all over it, pretend we were driving it.” I haven’t thought about that in years… Happy memories. “Grandmama had a big garden, and we’d get out there and help her pick the fruits and vegetables. She grew just about everything. Zucchinis, radishes, pumpkins, carrots… apple and lemon trees. Even flowers like lavender.”
“Trying to get a kid to do work now is like pulling teeth.” Lauren giggled. “Hell, I can barely get summer help from the older college kids and teenagers. They just wanna go down to Florida to mess around on the beaches or fly up to California for their break – the hell with a job.”
“Oh, trust me, we had a fee. This was in exchange for homemade pies, brownies, and cookies served with big glasses of ice-cold milk later, of course.” There’s that beautiful smile again. “Sometimes my grandmother would take us to the market with her, and there was a guy who sold toys out that way, too. If we’d been real good, she’d let us get some of those cheap little toy cars. There’d be like a bag of ’em for a dollar. That was incentive for us to sweep and vacuum her house, too. I think I looked forward to just sitting on the couch sometimes, watchin’ cartoons with a big bowl of fruit from her garden though. Sometimes the simplest stuff was the best.”
“There’s nothing more delicious than a fresh orange, sweet grapes right off the vine, or a succulent peach. Mmm mmm mmm!” She shook her head then pointed to an item on the menu. “And I haven’t had a good bowl of blackberries in I don’t know how long. I wonder if these breakfast enchiladas are any good?”
“I’ve never had those, but I’ve had just about everything else here. I’m partial to their French toast, bacon and grits. I usually get that, with some coffee. Their chicken biscuits are good, too. Sometimes I get some fresh fruit on the side.” She continued to read the menu, and he took that time to study her. She was so close to him, the top of her head practically touching his chest. He could smell her hair, her skin, her aura. Her hair, which was twisted in a French braid with gold beading along one side, smelled of peppermint. She wore a light pink fuzzy short sleeved sweater that smelled of vanilla, paired with pants the color of mushrooms that hugged her ass and thighs just right. On her feet she sported a pair of black wedges and a silver anklet. She moved a little, causing her silver shell-shaped earrings to swing. He noticed things like the way a woman put herself together. He liked Lauren’s sense of style. It wasn’t over the top, but showed effort.
“You look really nice by the way,” he whispered in her ear. “Pretty as can be.”
She looked up at him and their eyes locked.
“Thank you. You look nice, too.” All he had on was a black T-shirt, jeans, and his work boots, but he appreciated her kind words all the same.
Soon, they had a table. A waitress cleaned the surface and took their orders. The woman had been working there a long time, and he always left her a nice tip when he ate here.
“I’ll have the fried pork chop with the sausage gravy,” Lauren stated as she handed her menu to the woman. “And coffee and water, please.”
“Sounds good! It’s so nice to see you again, sir. What can I get for ya?”
“I was going to have my usual, but you know what? What she ordered sounds just fine. I’d like a bowl of fruit with it, too.” He handed his menu to the waitress. “I want strawberries, grapes, and watermelon.”
“No problem. Do you want water and coffee, too?”
“I sure do. Just bring a pot with a bowl of cream and sugars.”
“You got it. I will have your food out to you in no time.”
Lauren clasped her hands and looked around. He imagined it appeared rather underwhelming, but to him, it was a small slice of heaven. He wanted to tell her that he was a simple man, that he wasn’t sure what she was used to. He’d say he was the kind of guy who liked to fish alone on a boat, ride motorcycles in the middle of the night, speeding down the highway, fuck hard and nasty in a tent