Silent Killer Page 0,117
teenage boy in that respect.
On the verge of crying happy tears, Cathy laughed.
Just as the waitress came to take their order, Jack said, “How about you call me Jack from now on? Mr. Perdue sounds a bit formal to me.”
“Yes, sir,” Seth replied in a not overly friendly but a respectful manner.
Cathy felt as if she were dreaming. Seth had shown an amazing maturity in his about-face concerning her relationship with Jack. And so quickly. She had been concerned about her son’s attitude, afraid that she might lose him if she stood her ground and continued seeing Jack. But what good was her hard-won independence if, when confronted with her first extremely difficult choice, she reverted back to pleasing others instead of herself, even if that other person was her own son?
“What’ll it be folks?” asked the forty-something blond waitress wearing fifties-style blue jeans, white shirt and ponytail.
“A double scoop of caramel ice cream in a waffle cone,” Lorie said without a moment’s hesitation.
“Just a Cherry Coke for me,” Cathy said.
“Hot-fudge sundae,” Jack and Seth replied simultaneously.
Jack grinned. “With extra walnuts.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Seth told the waitress.
Cathy forced a smile. “I’ve changed my mind. Make that three hot-fudge sundaes with extra walnuts.”
Seth looked at her questioningly. “I didn’t think you liked walnuts.”
“Oh, you’re right. Sorry. Make that pecans.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The waitress repeated the order and then asked Cathy, “You still want the Cherry Coke, too?”
“No, thank you.”
Think of something to say to avert either Jack or Seth from commenting on what a coincidence it was that they both loved hot-fudge sundaes with walnuts.
She knew it was silly of her to worry about such a mundane matter. After all, millions of people loved hot-fudge sundaes, didn’t they?
“This has to be the most popular place in town.” She glanced around at the full-to-capacity interior. “I see quite a few people I know.”
“Yeah, ever since it opened last summer, it’s been the happening place,” Lorie said a bit too enthusiastically. “Even the local ministers hang out here.” She laughed, the sound slightly shrill. “Look over there.” She lifted her hand and waved. “There’s Patsy and Elliott.”
“Isn’t that Reverend Phillips and his wife?” Seth asked, and they all followed his line of vision to where the black Baptist minister and his wife sat on bar stools at the counter.
As his gaze surveyed the room, Jack paused when he saw his boss. “There’s Mike with M.J. and Hannah.” Jack threw up his hand and waved. Mike motioned to Jack. “If y’all will excuse me for a minute, I’ll go over to say hi.”
As soon as Jack left the table, Seth stood and said, “I think I’ll choose some tunes on the jukebox. Lorie, have you got a preference?”
“Just something loud and fun,” Lorie told him. “Something that’ll make us want to shake our booties.”
Seth laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“What about your mom? Aren’t you going to choose something for her?”
“I already know what Mom will want to hear. She used to play it a lot when I was a kid.” Not waiting for a response, Seth made his way through the crowded tables to the jukebox, a modern replica of the type popular in the fifties.
Cathy wanted to call Seth back, to ask him not to choose that particular song, but how could she explain to him why, tonight of all nights, she didn’t want to hear what he knew was her heart’s choice?
“You’ve got an odd look on your face.” Lorie studied her closely. “You’re not still concerned about Jack and Seth ordering the same dessert, are you?”
“Goodness, no. A lot of people love hot-fudge sundaes. It’s not as if preferences in food are considered hereditary.”
Lorie nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.” She glanced to where Jack stood by the booth across from their table, he and Mike talking and laughing. “I need to find myself a boyfriend. Somebody big and strong and good-looking. Somebody who doesn’t give a damn about my notorious past.”
“Before you start boyfriend hunting, I suggest you stop drooling over Mike Birkett. You might find a man who doesn’t give a damn about your notorious past, but I doubt you’ll find one who’s willing to play second fiddle to the sheriff.”
“The right man could make me forget Mike.”
“Maybe.”
“Did Mark ever make you forget Jack?” Lorie cursed under her breath. “Sorry, I had no business asking you. I know you and Mark had a good marriage.”
“We did. And I don’t regret marrying him. But to answer your question, no, I never