“You not liking someone?” Nora feigns over-the-top disbelief as she presses her fingertips to her mouth. “I just can’t see it.”
“Funny,” I deadpan. “Clementine works there.”
“Ex-girlfriend?”
“She’s a Harker. Our kind doesn’t mix well with theirs.”
Nora frowns. “What exactly does that mean?”
“Her family is full of shiitake heads.”
A giggle bursts out of Nora. “My grandma really did a number on you.”
“Tell me about it.”
I place my hand on the small of her back as we cross the street. It’s completely unnecessary, but I feel compelled to make sure she gets across safely. You can’t trust tourists around here. Monroe said they account for ninety percent of vehicular accidents each year which is a lot considering tourist season is generally only through the summer.
Once we’re on the other side, I remove my hand and then shove it into my pocket, because for some reason, I feel guilty. The scent of fried clams fills my nostrils as we approach my childhood haunt and my stomach growls in anticipation, erasing all the strange emotions bubbling up inside me.
An older man exits the restaurant and then beams at Nora. “Hello, pretty lady. Let me get the door for you. Not every day an old fella like me gets to help a lovely gal like yourself.”
She blushes and thanks him profusely. The man gives me a thumbs up when she heads inside and whispers to me, “You hit the jackpot, buddy.”
Rather than get into a deep conversation about how she’s my deceased roommate’s granddaughter whom I still think was selfish for not going to the funeral, I nod instead and follow after her. The place is hopping like it always is, but a little more chaotic than usual given that BudgieFest is nearly here.
We pass by a table of what has to be three families and their dozens of kids between the three of them. Most of the kids are gathered around at one end, oohing and ahhing over a small cage sitting on the table. Inside is a very terrified albino budgie, its red eyes pinning. One of the children tries to rouse the poor bird to do something with her straw.
This is the part I hate about BudgieFest. I hated it long before Goldie started staying with me. In fact, all locals hate that these clueless parents get birds for their children without truly considering how labor intensive having birds can be.
“Excuse me, little girl,” Nora says, voice firm as she aims it toward the kid with the straw. “You’re going to scare your budgie to death. Don’t poke at it with a straw or I’ll have the sheriff come over to deal with you.”
The child withdraws the straw and then runs over to her mom, sobbing. I can hear her complaining about the mean lady.
I stifle a laugh as we settle into a booth nearby. The mother of the child glares at Nora as she attempts to console the girl. I’m amused because it’s something her grandmother would have also done.
“Glad someone has the guts to say something around here,” a waitress says as she slaps down some menus. “What can I get you two?”
“Dot in?” I ask as I quickly peruse the menu for anything new that interests me.
“Nah, she left a couple of hours ago.” The woman cants her head to the side. “You must be one of her grandkids. Same eyes.”
“Perceptive,” I say and thump the menu with my knuckle. “I’ll have a root beer in a frosty mug.”
Nora perks up at that. “Same.”
As the woman walks away, I catch Nora staring at the table with the albino budgie. Her anger, this time, isn’t aimed toward me which is kind of nice.
Thankfully, the families must’ve been finishing up their meal because they all get up and leave before our waitress returns with our drinks.
After placing our order, Nora relaxes now that she doesn’t have to witness a bird in peril, and a smile touches her lips. I distract myself with sipping on my root beer, so I don’t fixate on her mouth.
“I think I found my purpose.”
Her statement gets my attention, and I snap my eyes up to hers. “About…”
“Why I’m here.”
I stare at her, my eyebrows pinching in confusion. “You’re here because you missed your grandma’s funeral and are trying to sell her house. Then you’ll go back to the city.”
