“What?” I ask. I gently shake my head to get those thoughts out of it.
“You okay? You got quiet.” Charlie’s gaze is pensive now, searching my face for a hint of anything that is wrong.
“Yeah,” I say, “I just got distracted.” I wipe at a spot on the counter. I don’t —can’t— let him know what I’d been thinking about.
Or rather, fantasizing about.
“Anyway,” he carries on, “totally ironic, right? A cop coming out of a donut shop. Stan sees us and takes off after us and ends up tripping on the sidewalk and fracturing his ankle.” He shoves another forkful of food into his mouth, the amount on his plate disappearing at a rapid pace.
I’ve known Charlie long enough to know that Stan was his first partner on the force. He’s considerably older than us and nearing retirement but still hanging on to the badge.
I feel my brows raise at his tale as I toss my dishrag over my shoulder. “Never a dull moment,” I say. I smile back at him as our eyes lock and linger on each other for a moment.
The bell above the door rings and the moment is broken, over in a flash.
Charlie and I turn in the direction of it and see Judith walking in.
“Judith!” we yell in unison.
She beams and raises her arms in the air as she heads toward the counter. She’s dressed in all sequins again today. I swear, all the woman owns are sequined and bedazzled tops.
She hops up onto the barstool beside Charlie instead of heading to her usual booth. For an elderly woman, she’s quite agile.
“Any pie this morning, dearie?” she asks. Charlie looks at me now, eager at the mention of pie, as he finishes his eggs and bacon.
“No, actually,” I begin, “but I’ve got something else for you two to try.” I reach across the counter and pick up Thea’s plate of brownies.
“Ah, new recipe?” Charlie asks, eyeing them. He leans closer on the counter to get a better look.
“You could say that.” I take off the tinfoil and present the plate to both of them. They each select one, take a bite, and nod approvingly.
“Another winner,” he says, crumbs spilling out of his mouth.
Judith nods her head in agreement. “You do have such a talent for baking, dearie.”
“I didn’t make these,” I correct them. “Thea did.”
“You Calloway girls sure can bake.” Charlie pops the last bite of brownie into his mouth before he stands and stretches, tossing a ten dollar bill down on the counter. “Well,” he says, “I’ve got to get back to the station and finish up on some paperwork. Beth Ann, excellent as always. Tell Thea those brownies were amazing. Judith, lovely as ever to see you.”
“Will do.” I nod my head as I watch him walk out the door before grabbing his plate, fork, and mug.
“Beth Ann,” Judith says and it startles me. No one besides Charlie and my parents have ever called me by my full name.
“When are you going to throw caution to the wind and get you a piece of that?” she asks with a smirk and one raised eyebrow.
“Judith!” I swat at her with the dishrag from my shoulder and feel heat creeping into my cheeks. “We’ve talked about this.”
“I am nothing if not persistent.”
I nod my head. She’s not wrong.
“Really, dearie, I’m not blind. He’s in here every day. Surely, the man knows how to make his own eggs and bacon.”
“Yes, but so are you,” I counter.
“I don’t seem to have a crush on you, now do I?” Judith stares at me while I offer no rebuttal.
“Charlie and I…” I trail off, watching the door he just exited through, “it’s complicated.”
