“I know. He mentioned it twice last week and once yesterday. I’m sorry. Men, what are you going to do?” I tease, since Dawson's wife always says the same thing when Dawson is late.
“That’s what the wife keeps telling me.” He pushes the bag toward me. “And Falon, Bo’s lucky to have found you.”
“But—”
Dawson raises his hands, “I’m just saying.” But he is smiling. He pulls out a notepad and slides it across with the bag. “Make sure he reads the updated dosage. It changed slightly.”
“Will do.”
“Good. Oh, and ah, Falon. Can you do me a quick favor?”
“For you, Mr. Dawson, Anything.” And I would. The man was as old as water and as sweet as honey.
“You aren’t by any chance going by the diner today, are ya?” he asks, looking a little sheepish.
“I sure am, and even if I wasn’t, I would for you.” I play-flirt, and he smirks. “Could you drop this here check off?” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a folded check.
“My tab’s been sitting there since February, and themissus has been mentioning it for weeks.” He slides it across the counter. “I keep forgetting.”
I tuck it into my wallet. “Consider it done.”
He points at me. “You’re good people, Falon Williams.”
I laugh and start toward the door, pausing only when the display of necklaces on the endcap catch my eye. I am not a necklace kind of girl, but the heart locket is nice.
“Silver’s your color,” Dawson says from behind me. When I turn around, he is writing something down, but I can still see the smile he tried to hide. He was not as sly as he thought he was, but I let him have this one.
Besides, that was a small town. Everything ran on handwritten tabs, playfully flirty old pharmacists, and a ten-year-old who couldn’t find your plants.
I was still thinking of old man Dawson when I walked into Ethel’s a few minutes later. The bell above Ethel’s door had barely stopped moving when Lila appeared from nowhere, zeroed in on me, and gestured for me to come sit at the counter.
I slide onto a counter stool, and she leans across it, voice dropping low, and cheeks already going pink.
“Phil asked me out,” she squeaks out, smiling from ear to ear.
“You mean, Phil from the accounting office. On Hazel Street.” My smile matches hers, inch for inch. I grab her hand across the counter. “The Phil, who always orders the egg white omelet?—”
“Yep, that’s the one.” She shrugs, and her energy is contagious.
We both make a kind of quiet-ish squealing sound that makes a couple of heads turn. Mae Hutchins looks over from two stools down with both eyebrows up.
Lila sobers fast, smoothing her apron, composing herselfback into waitress mode. “I’ll call you later. I just had to tell you. It’s all thanks to your advice.” She is already moving down the counter, pink-cheeked and bright-eyed.
“No, it was going to happen sooner or later, but I’m sure glad it was sooner.” She and Phil have been dancing around that for months; someone had to give them a little nudge. I’m just glad it worked out.
Ethel comes out from the back, wiping her hands on her apron. She looks at me. Then, at Lila’s retreating back, she shakes her head slowly.
“Kids,” she says. Then, without missing a beat: “What can I get ya, sweetie?”
I hand her Dawson’s check. “Coffee, please. And I’ve got a pie order whenever it’s ready.”
Ethel glances at the check, nods, tucks it into her apron pocket, and sets a hot mug of coffee in front of me. “It’ll be a minute, cook’s in a mood today. He burned the first eggs of the day, and now he thinks the universe is against him.” I gape at her and laughed. I knew it wasn’t only me who had mornings like that. Poor Terry. I know exactly what he is going through.
I wrap both hands around my coffee and breathe in its heavenly scent. So far, besides the plants, which were innocent enough, nothing had gone genuinely wrong.
I pick up my mug, feeling a little confident my day had turned around, ready to take the first sip, when Kevin slides onto the stool beside me. His cologne permeates the air around me. I refrain from wrinkling my nose. He needs a new cologne. Vinegar and alcohol are not his scent.
I should have known. The morning warned me, and did I listen, no. I did not.
