Sadie set her mug and small plate in the sink. Now the fire flattened in irritation. “Babe,” Joan said.
“Hmm?” Sadie slid her phone into her back pocket.
Joan just looked at her.
Sadie swiped her usual cherry-red lipstick on before tossing it in her rainbow-striped tote bag.
“Babe.”
“What?”
Joan gestured at the sink.
“What?” Sadie looked around, then understood. “Oh my lord.”
She huffed back to the sink and picked up her mug, then wrenched the dishwasher open and set it inside.
“Thank you,” Joan said with more patience than she felt.
“Mm-hmm.” Sadie put the rest of her dishes in the washer.
“I appreciate it.”
“I know you like a clean kitchen.”
“Happy home, happy life.”
Sadie closed the dishwasher door, then looked up with a small smile. “Happy Joan, happy Sadie.”
Ugh, harping on her felt equal parts asshole and expressive. But a clean kitchen meant more than just a sink without dirty dishes. An orderly home had been one thing in Joan’s chaotic life she’d been able to control.
She followed Sadie to the door. “Are you making Mexican hot chocolate again today?”
“We should have enough ingredients left,” Sadie said.
“Cool. It pairs perfectly with the Tequila Sunset sandwich.”
As they exited their apartment and headed for the elevator, they discussed the day’s menu. In the three months since opening Hot and Cold, they’d made quite a few changes with Mark. Tweaked the menu, added more sides, started selling Sadie’s specialty drinks like hot chocolate and apple cider for the cooler winter months.
The biggest change was very quickly realizing none of them enjoyed getting up early to shop and prep to be open for lunch. So they’d found a perfect weeknight dinner crowd location outside several towering office buildings. People liked to grab something quick ahead of their evening plans or commute. There was less competition too, so it was a win all around.
After stopping at a nearby grocery store, Joan drove to where Mark had already parked the truck. She found a spot around the corner and eased her black sedan into it. Sadie hopped out to get the groceries as Joan fed the meter. The sun had dipped behind some clouds, making the breeze in the January air chillier. She slid her Wayfarer sunglasses to the top of her head even though it felt strange not wearing them in public. Old habits died hard.
Sadie handed over one of the reusable shopping bags so they could hold hands while walking. They passed the husband-and-wife duo who ran Cajun Soul also unloading supplies for their truck.
“There’s the cutest couple ever,” Tenia said with a warm, toothy grin.
“You mean you and Morris?” Sadie replied. “For sure.”
They all laughed. The middle-aged Black couple were so giving with advice and helpful suggestions. They were also enjoying this later-in-life food truck endeavor.
On Crawley Avenue, a few late-lunch customers stood in line for Powered By Plants’ amazing vegan dishes. Beth-Ann was writing something on the truck’s menu board. Her white jacket and platinum-blonde ponytail were almost as bright as the yellow truck.
“You guys have that warm beet salad today?” Joan asked.
“We only have a few left,” Beth-Ann said.
“Ooh, you won’t regret ordering that,” Sadie told their customers. “It’s perfect on a day like today.”
