“Yeah, Mom. Say hi to Dad, and I can’t wait to see photos.”
After ending the call with my mom, I make the short drive over to the Laughing Fork Diner, where I can sit and get work done while eating far too much food.
And be around people.
I know I’ve only been at the ranch for a short time, and mypersonal interactions have been limited to Colt mostly, but sitting in my cabin alone doesn’t feel right. Surrounded by so much quiet, it feels like the walls are closing in. I’m used to noise. Even if it was Trevor turning up the music while I tried to record a video, or his friends shouting at pigeons on the balcony. I never felt alone like I do in that empty cabin.
The diner is busy with the dinner rush, and I squeeze into a booth in the corner. The server waves to acknowledge me, and while I wait for them, I set up my laptop and log in to start work. I connected my phone earlier and downloaded all the photos from today’s ride. Scrolling through them quickly, I delete the ones that I immediately dislike, and I’m through the batch before the server arrives.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” They pass me a menu. “The special tonight is Salisbury steak with mashed potatoes and carrots for $12.99.”
“Oh man, that sounds incredible. I’ll have that with…do you have cream soda?”
“We do. It’s in a bottle. Do you want pink or white?”
Since Colt isn’t around to see me, I ask for both. I want to know if the pink is as bad as he says it is. An hour later, and I’m stuffed with the best Salisbury steak I’ve had in forever. Also, Colt is right; pink cream soda tastes like cough syrup.
I’ve also gotten a lot of work done, but I’d like to stay for more.
“Can I get you anything else?” The server pops up as if summoned, and I smile.
“What are the chances you have apple pie?”
“Pretty good. Do you want ice cream with it?”
“That sounds like a trick question. Of course I do.”
“I’ll get that for you right away.”
The diner has emptied since Ifirst sat down, and after a quick glance, I notice they turned off the open sign. When the server returns with my pie, I ask what time they close.
“We try to close at 7 PM, but most times it’s just when everyone leaves.”
“Oh, that’s…kind of you.”
The woman points to the empty seat across from me, asking permission to sit, and I nod.
“You’re new here. We aren’t like a lot of other places. It’s a different way of life in Chance.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“What are you working on that needs Wi-Fi every day? We don’t get many people in here working like you.”
The pie crust is flaky goodness, and they made the filling with real apples. “Oh my god, this pie is so good! It must be homemade. Tastes just like the one my mom makes.”
“Everything is homemade here. I told you, it’s not like the city.”
That catches my attention, and I swallow before replying. “What do you mean?”
She taps my laptop with her finger. “This, first of all. People come to the diner to eat good food and socialize, not to stare at a screen.” She gestures to the pie. “The food isn’t prepackaged or made to go quickly. It’s made with love and meant to be enjoyed with the company of a friend or family. It’s slow food. The world moves too fast already. Don’t rush through a meal because you have a deadline.”
My gaze drops to the pie in front of me, and I imagine the person peeling the apples by hand this morning and making the dough in the hope it would bring a smile to a diner. It’s likely more profitable for a small place like this to buy bulk frozen pies and serve as needed, but there’s something to be said about the extra attention to slow, like she said.
“My name is Ethan.” I offer her a hand to shake, and she accepts it with a warm smile.
“Cathy. It’s wonderful to meet you.” She taps my laptop again. “Now tell me what work brought you here.”
“Oh, sorry.” Turning my laptop around, I show Cathy the Instagram page I’ve made for the ranch. “I’m a marketing expert, an influencer, and I’m working for the Snow Creek Ranch.”
