Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
“Not yet. Day’s still young though.” I raise my coffee mug to her as she steps over and bumps her hip into her mom.
“Morning, Mama Mia. How sizzles the grill?” Summer winks at me and Margaret shakes her head.
“It’s sizzling alright. You’re an hour late.”
Summer gives me a big smile and the silver stud in her tongue flashes in the fluorescent lights as she shrugs. “You know I believe time is fluid. Clocks are oppressive.”
I tilt my head. “You know attorneys charge by the minute? So, you might want to get on better terms with time or you might not get paid.”
She rolls her eyes. “I want to do pro bono work. Money doesn’t motivate me.”
“Money may not motivate you, but it keeps the lights on and your tuition paid.” Margaret pops her red lips at her daughter. “Now, go get into uniform and get to work.”
“Slave labor was outlawed in 1865, you know,” Summer snaps back, but it’s all in good fun.
She and Margaret are more like sisters. Margaret had her at seventeen, raised her as a single mom. Sort of a Gilmore Girl’s deal. Summer’s father was a carnival guy, passing through town taking advantage of young women as he went giving them fake names and a flashy smile.
If I could ever find him, I’d quietly make sure he couldn’t ever manage to…do that…to any other girls.
Margaret’s parents disowned her when they found out she was pregnant and from the little I know, they’ve never even met their pretty amazing and only granddaughter.
Margaret and Summer moved here about ten years ago from an adjoining county and Margaret started waitressing at The Over Easy the week they arrived.
When we found out she was pretty much alone in the world, my parents became pseudo-grandparents to Summer and I’ve done what I can to be a helpful sort-of-brother to Margaret, and adopted uncle to Summer.
Margaret worked hard from the day she started at the diner, and two years ago, bought the place from the former owner.
“If you’re comparing your life to the life of a slave, I’ve not done my job as a mother or human very well.” Margaret gives her a playful disapproving look and Summer twists her lips into a wry smile.
“Just joking,” she sing-songs as she spins on her heel and disappears into the back, her faint voice giving cheerful ‘hellos’ to Rodney the cook and Mike the dishwasher.
“So,” Margaret starts, and I hear that tone in her voice. “Janice Morgan’s daughter is in town.”
I restrain the groan that tightens my throat. “That’s nice. Hope she has a good visit.”
“Uh huh. I bet you do.”
“My food’s getting cold.” I take my fork and cut off a section of my egg and lay it on top of half a slice of toast, then gather it toward my mouth.
“You of all people should know time isn’t always promised. Maybe you should consider the idea that a woman, wife, girlfriend…kids,” she raises her eyebrows, “might be something good for you.”
I broke three ribs and had to have my spleen removed last year after a semi rammed into my cruiser during a high-speed chase on the interstate. Ever since, Margaret and my mother have been on me to find someone, settle down a bit and make some babies for them to spoil.
I chew and swallow my bite, following it up with a bite of the bacon, keeping my eyes forward and hoping my silence will put this topic to rest.
“Okay.” Margaret retreats. “I just don’t like you being alone. You’d make a great father.”
“Thanks.” I take a long breath as she reaches up to poke a pencil into her hair and rubs her lips together.
I’ve dated in the past, nothing serious but even so, when you were the sheriff’s son and then the sheriff, every move you make is under the microscope.
So, it’s been a long fucking time since I considered dating. Even in a small town, I’ve seen the worst of people. I’ve watched more times than I can count love turning to hate in the blink of an eye.
The whole soul mate, love of my life? Well, from what I can tell it’s precarious at best. And I guess I’ve never met anyone that made me want to take that risk.
I’ve come to think I’m just not wired for it, no one has ever given me that ‘thing’ people talk about, that ‘boom’ or whatever it is. And, even if I found it, I’m still not sure the odds are in favor of it lasting. My parents are the exception, but doing my job, I’ve seen far too many former soul mates become sworn enemies.
The bells on the door jingle again as I heap a fork full of hash browns into my mouth savoring the salty buttery flavor, and Margaret and I look up to see her partner, Dawn, smiling as she comes through with a handful of flowers.