Page 23 of The Fix-Up
As one of the two oldest continuous businesses in Two Harts, this place held a whole town’s worth of history. One wall was covered in senior class photos from the high school. It was tradition that every year on Senior Skip Day, the kids would end up at the Sit-n-Eat for lunch. That day, they’d present Ollie with a class photo, which he hung up on the wall next to all the others, going back decades.
Sadness pinged my heart; Ollie wouldn’t be here to do that this year. He’d always complained about having to deal with all the teenagers but every now and then, I’d catch him looking at those class photos with a mix of nostalgia and pride. On the other walls were Holder family photos through the years, newspaper clippings that mentioned the Sit-n-Eat, or any Two Harts’ residents for that matter.
I pushed through the half-door and into the dining room.
Oliver skidded to a halt in front of me. “Mommy, I turned on all the lights, set the chairs up, put the con-a-ments?—”
“Condiments.”
“Yeah, that. I put those on the tables. Can I help put the money in the register?”
“Sure.” I figured by the time he was ten, he’d be running the place on his own and I could relax a little.
Ten minutes later, Oliver was sitting at the counter eating an orange spice muffin and chattering away. “Is today when Mr. Dalton comes?”
My shoulders tensed. “Yes.”
“I’m going to draw him a picture so I can give it to him.”
“Why?”
“’Cause we’re gonna be friends.”
Sighing, I leaned next to him at the counter. “We talked about this. He’s a stranger. You need to keep your distance.”
“But he’s Ollie’s grandson.” Oliver’s lips pulled to the side. “Ollie said he was a good guy.”
I froze. “Ollie said what?”
Oliver’s eyes darted from my face to his muffin. “Um, he said?—”
The back door burst open, and Jorge yelled, “Morning.”
“Jorge’s here.” Oliver popped up and ran to the kitchen, I suspected more in a hurry to get out of answering that question than saying hello to Jorge. We would be revisiting that later.
Jorge got to work with any prep he needed with a surprisingly chipper attitude. Then again, the guy had six kids at home. Sometimes I thought he viewed work as a vacation. After sending Oliver into the office to watch cartoons, I settled down with a cup of coffee and an egg-and-sausage breakfast muffin. Had to eat before we opened. There wouldn’t be time again until we closed.
Iris dragged herself in fifteen minutes before we opened, looking a little rough around the edges. Her blonde and pink hair was wound messily atop her head, and she didn’t have a drop of makeup on. After hightailing it to the coffee, she sighed deeply with the first sip and leaned against the counter.
“Rough night?” I asked.
“Being in love sucks.”
Iris and her boyfriend Aidan had been together for three years. The first two years, they attended the nearby community college, but this year, Aidan had moved to Lubbock after getting a scholarship to Texas Tech.
“Ouch. Do you want to talk about it?”
“He brought up marriage again.” Absently, she fiddled with the slim gold band, the small round diamond catching the light,on her left ring finger. Aidan had given her the promise ring at Christmas.
“And?’
“And I don’t know.” She slipped on her apron and patted the pocket for her order pad. “I’m not even sure I want to get married, like, ever.”
“I don’t have much advice on the subject of marriage.” Never married, and all that. “But I don’t think you should rush into anything if you don’t feel right about it.”
“Yeah.” She stared over my shoulder. “I guess it seems like I should feel right about it though. I love him. My mom loves him, Mae loves him. But maybe tha?—”
Someone rapped on the front door impatiently, interrupting whatever she might have said. When I saw who it was, I groaned. “Why is he here?”
