Once in her truck, he said, “Is there a reason you don’t want to go to there?”
Her hands clutching the steering wheel grew white. “Oh, course not. The True-Blue it is.”
*
When Owen andCarly stepped into the rustic, down-home restaurant, the noise assaulted him. The strains of the Zac Brown Band competed with voices of family and friends clustered at simple Formica tables with red tablecloths. The clatter of dishes reverberated through the room as bus boys scrambled to clear tables for new diners. For a moment Owen focused on his breathing, allowing his body and mind to adjust, and prayed his ears would quit ringing.
He’d chosen The True-Blue because the food was good and he’d spent a good portion of his teen years here, often with Carly, but he’d forgotten how overwhelming it could be on a Friday.
Alisha Watson, The True-Blue’s hostess for longer than he remembered, wrapped him in a bear hug when he and Carly arrived. Not much over five-feet tall, she’d always put him in his place with a single look. “Owen, it’s good to see you. Thank you for all you’ve given to our country. I’m saying prayers your recovery is a speedy one.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Watson, for that and all the pumpkin bread you sent while I was deployed. That sure was a treat.”
“I was glad to do it.” She turned to Carly. “It’s good to see you too, young lady. Now, follow me. I’ll get you two a table and leave you to enjoy your night together.”
A flush spread across Carly’s cheeks and she waved her arms. “Oh, it’s not like that. I’m buying Owen dinner as thanks for his help with my presentation.”
“It’s none of my business. My job’s to get you a table,” Mrs. Watson said.
As she ushered them through the restaurant, people thumped him on the back or shook his hand while thanking him for his service. He nodded and smiled, hoping to appear friendly without encouraging more conversation. Tonight, he wanted Carly to himself.
“It felt good being productive today, and being part of a team,” Owen said once they were seated.
“What you’re experiencing isn’t uncommon. Most military personnel find the transition from working fourteen-hour days to having so much free time more difficult than expected.”
He stared at Carly. How had she gotten that formal mouthful out in one breath? Where had the woman he’d joked with the better part of the day gone? They’d been more comfortable with a hundred former teachers eyeing them than sitting here.
She squirmed in her chair. “I wish everyone would quit staring.”
“Give it time,” Owen said. He wasn’t keen with being on display either. When Dennis and his wife Brenda a few tables away grinned, Owen smiled and nodded. “If Brenda’s grin gets any wider, she’ll lose her dentures.”
“Don’t make eye contact. Doing that is like showing a horse a shiny red apple. Brenda will head straight for us,” Carly said, her voice tinged with panic.
“Too late. They’re on the way.”
When the older couple arrived, Brenda patted Owen’s arm, while Dennis sent him an I’m-sorry-to-bother-you-but-I-couldn’t-talk-her-out-of-this look. “It’s so good to see you two together again.”
Carly waved her hands in a no motion, kicking up a breeze, and almost knocking her silverware off the table. “You’ve got it all wrong. We’re not together. Well, we’rehereat the restaurant together, but we’re not together as in we’re a couple or dating or anything. We’re just friends.”
“Whatever you say, dear. You don’t have to explain anything to us.”
“I don’t want anyone thinking something inappropriate is going on. After all, Owen’s a client.”
“Oh, pish, posh. No one’s going to think that when you two have known each other all your lives.” Brenda waved her hand in the air, dismissing Carly’s concern. “Speaking of your work, I was thrilled when Dennis said you’re working directly with veterans again. You have such a gift. It’s a shame not to use it. Though, your mother would be proud you’re carrying on her work as director.”
Carly stiffened, then slumped in her chair. Her fingers toyed with her fork. Though she smiled at the couple, her gaze remained blank. “That’s kind of you to say.”
“Brenda, you’ve said your piece. Now let these two order dinner.” Dennis motioned to a perky teenage waitress heading toward them. “And I want to finish mine before it gets any colder.”
Then after a nod, the older man led his wife back to their table as the waitress arrived. “Hello, Ms. Maddux. How are you tonight?”
“I’m doing well, Amy, thanks for asking. Owen, Amy is Eddie Marsh’s oldest daughter.”
The teenager smiled. “My dad’s told me a lot about you, Mr. Crawford. Thank you for your service.”
“Tell your dad hello from me,” Owen said.
Talk about feeling old. Owen remembered watching TV in the living room after three-year-old Amy went to bed on nights Carly babysat. How could that kid be old enough to wait tables at The True-Blue? Then the fact hit him that had he and Carly not broken up and had a child after college, their child could be ten or around there. He’d always thought by this age he’d have a family, but then he’d believed he had plenty of time. Landon’s death insisted differently. At the rate he was going, he’d be eligible for AARP before any kid he had left grade school.
