planned to drop off my car with Darryl and didn’t want to have to carry the cage to the shop.
Knowing I’d be seeing Darryl, I might have dressed a little more carefully than usual. The blouse, with its empire bust, flattered my chest and also covered the muffin that spilled over the top of my pants. I blow-dried my hair, brushing it as I did, trying to recreate the sleek layers the hairdresser managed. I didn’t quite get it right, but I looked decent enough.
Or so I convinced myself.
Betsy started at the first turn of the key and made it to the gas station without any trouble. Parking alongside the building in one of the few marked spots, I realized Darryl’s truck wasn’t there. He’d not come in to work yet, leaving me with a dilemma. Did I drive to the store or leave my car?
If I drove, would he think I’d rejected his offer? What if I left the car and it turned out he was too busy? Or hadn’t really meant it?
I needed to stop thinking people had hidden meanings when they spoke. Darryl offered. He wouldn’t have if he didn’t mean it.
Exiting my car, I marched to the store. Entering, I noticed he had hired a cute blonde woman to work behind the counter. Seeing her, I tried to not feel inadequate, but it was hard to ignore her youthful skin, her taut body, and, worst of all, her engaging smile.
“Hi, there. What can I help you with today?” she asked.
“Um. Darryl said he’d take a peek at my car.”
“The boss isn’t here.”
“I know. I was just going to leave these here for him.” I held up my keys.
“And you are?”
“Naomi.”
“Mmm-kay.” She tucked the key for Betsy behind the counter. “But I don’t know when he’ll be in. He was up real late last night.”
How would she know? Wait, had she spent the night with him?
Jealousy clawed at me, sudden and fierce. It was so unexpected, so new, that I had no reply other than, “Thanks. Gotta go.”
I practically ran out of there. I marched quickly along the side of the road, the brisk morning air filling my lungs. It didn’t take long at that pace to reach the small downtown strip. Rather than head to the shop, I went to the diner first. Forget fasting. I needed food. Heaps of it. I’d keep it low carb, though, so I didn’t get the bloat or guilt later.
I entered the diner and Marjorie waved. “Hey! Grab a spot anywhere you want. I’ll be over to see you in a second.”
Only a few people sat in the booths, plates of food in front of them. I chose a two-seater by the window. Marjorie came by shortly after with a cup of coffee and a bowl of creamers.
“What are you having for breakfast today?” she asked.
“Mushroom, bacon, and ham omelet.”
“With a side of bacon?”
Extra protein? “Yes, please.”
As she went off, she shouted the order to Orville in the kitchen. He popped his head out long enough to glance at me and nod.
Look at him getting all social. I waved back.
It didn’t take long to get served, and the food came with conversation as Marjorie slid into the seat across from me.
“Glad you came in. I needed a break. We had a big breakfast rush around seven as the boys were heading into the mill. I swear, every day there’s even more new faces.”
Signs of the town revitalizing I hoped. “Are we still on for game night?” I asked.
Rather than stick to my old habit of watching television and falling asleep, which kind of resembled the rest of my week, I’d made plans. Or rather, Winnie, my bossy kid, had. She declared we needed a girls’ night in. Trish suggested board games. It sounded heavenly and lacking any drama or trouble.
“I’ll be over right after I finish my shift at seven. I just need to go home and shower first.”
“You’re working twelve hours?” I exclaimed.
“Thirteen actually. I came in at six.”
“That’s a long day.” A part of me knew that and yet never clued in to just how hard she worked.
She shrugged. “Long days make for bigger paychecks.”
“But what about you time?”
“Orville’s good about giving me time between the rushes to get stuff done. Don’t forget I have a few hours in the evening and my weekends off. Except for Sunday morning. I come in to help with brunch sometimes. And you’re one to talk. I hear you’ve been burning the