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Jo Jo had stayed with me for a month while Brady had gotten sober. Now that he wasn't under my feet, well, I missed the boy.
“Yeah, I can close by myself tonight.” Sunny only worked token hours in the afternoon, now that she had a baby to take care of at home. But with Jo Jo gone, it was going to be a much longer night than I planned.
Jo Jo stood up, the top of his head nearly four inches above mine. He kissed my cheek. “Thanks, Chavvie. You're the best.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I told him. “Go peddle your charm where it might do you some good.”
Ed Thompson finished the last sip of his coffee, put a dollar on the table, and limped to the cash register.
“Did you hurt yourself, Ed?” I asked as he counted exact change for his lunch.
“Just a catch in my step is all. Weather's gonna turn bad, I think.”
It was the beginning of July, and the weather in Missouri fluctuated day to day, so I didn't have to be a psychic to predict it, I just knew change was inevitable. They had a saying in the state that went something like, “If you don't like the weather, stick around five minutes, it'll change.”
“Do you think you could look at my car, Ed? It keeps making a clicking noise.”
“Sure, Chav. Bring it on over anytime.”
“If I get it to you tomorrow morning, when could you have it done?”
“Could be a timing problem. Unless it’s something that I have to order parts for, no later than Friday.”
“Sounds good.”
Ed nodded, and with a wink and a smile, headed out. The doorbell jangled again, three men walked in. The first man had short brown hair, about two weeks overdue for a haircut, so it curled over his ears. He was tall, well built, and his green eyes shined like peridots framed by thick dark lashes. The second of the men was thin and wiry, nice-looking in his own way, with blue eyes, red hair, and freckles. The third, a dark blond with brown eyes was built like an Olympic swimmer with a broad chest, narrow hips, and long, muscular arms. All three came to the register.
“Can I get you gentlemen a table?” I asked.
“No,” said the man with pale green eyes. “We need some sandwiches and coffee to go.”
“Cream and sugar?”
The redhead piped up. “Yes, for me.”
“Only sugar,” the dark blond said.
“I’ll take mine black,” the green-eyed man said.
“And what sandwiches?” I pulled out my order pad and held up a pen, ready to write.
“Jackfruit burger with jalapeños.”
“Your California roll with extra avocado.”
“I’ll take the roasted red pepper panini with cream cheese.”
“Chips and a dill pickle spear all around?”
Each man nodded. They stood off to the side. I asked Jo Jo to get the coffees, and I went back to the kitchen to make the sandwiches. Ten minutes later, I carried the order, wrapped and ready to go to the register.
The dark blond with the brown eyes leaned close. “Mmm. Those smell good.”
I put the sandwiches into a bag, added three servings of homemade potato chips and three baggies with a dill pickle spear each, napkins, and plastic silverware. Jo Jo arrived with three coffees in to-go cups.
“Anything else?” I asked.
“Your name,” the blond said.
