Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Then he opens his mouth and rumbles my name.
“Sunny?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at me. “Is that you?”
Realization breaks over me. It’s him! After all these years, it’s finally him!
The Blue Plate Special drops from my nerveless fingers. It lands on the table and gravy splatters everywhere. Mr. Cochran gives a grunt of protest but I don’t even notice—I’m too busy running to greet my big brother.
“Kane!” I shout, flinging myself into his arms.
He looks surprised but he catches me anyway as I launch myself at him. I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, not caring that my powder blue waitressing uniform is riding up to show my thighs.
One of Kane’s arms goes around my waist and the other hand supports my bottom. I don’t care—I’m just so happy to see him!
“Kane—big brother!” I babble and cover his face with kisses. I’ve been dreaming of this day for literally years—I can’t believe it’s finally here!
My brother looks shocked when I finally stop kissing him but then a slow, almost shy smile, spreads across his scarred face.
“Sunny…baby sis,” he says, which is what he always calls me in his letters. I can’t help noticing that he smells really good—is he wearing cologne? It just makes me want to hang on to him and never let go.
“You didn’t say you were coming today!” I accuse him. “I would have gotten the day off work so we could spend some time together.”
“Oh no,” he begins. “I don’t really think—”
“Well, never mind,” I say briskly. “You’re here now so I’m going to feed you.”
Giving him one last smooch on his bristly cheek—he needs a shave but I kind of like the stubble—I slide down his long body and stand on my own two feet again. I drag him by the hand over to Table Six, right by the window that shows the mountains. Then I put one of our laminated menus in his hands and smile down at him.
“Get anything you want—it’s on me.”
“Oh no—I can pay,” he starts to protest.
I give him a stern look.
“Not in my diner you won’t! This meal is my treat and I want you to get whatever you want. I’ll be back in a minute, so you just study that menu and decide.”
I go back to Mr. Cochran’s table and help clean the gravy off his shirt. He’s peeved with me but he lightens up when I explain that Kane is the big brother I haven’t seen in well over twenty years.
“Well…it is always nice when family comes to town,” he allows, after I get him all cleaned up and offer him a free slice of pie for his trouble.
“Very nice,” I agree, smiling.
Then I hustle back to Kane with a glass of ice water.
“Well?” I say, raising and eyebrow at him. “What’ll it be, Big Brother?”
“Hmmm…” He’s frowning in concentration as he looks at the menu. “I can’t decide. Which is better—the Blue Plate Special with the meatloaf or Granny’s buttermilk brined fried chicken?”
“Both are delicious,” I assure him. “So I’ll bring both, since you can’t decide.”
He frowns.
“Oh no—I couldn’t.”
“Yes, you can and you will,” I say bossily, but I give him a smile to let him know I’m half teasing. But serious too. “You’re a big guy—you can handle both,” I tell him.
In fact, my brother is a lot bigger than I dreamed he’d be. And he doesn’t really look much like me. I have black hair and amber eyes like Momma did. I guess our fathers must have been really different looking guys. Also I’m short and compact with wide hips and a big behind—thiccc with three Cs is how I heard it described a while back. My boyfriend, Charles, is always after me to lose some weight but Kane held me like I weighed nothing when I jumped into his arms.
These are all my thoughts as I head back to the kitchen and put in both orders to Cookie.
“And be sure you give him plenty of sides, too,” I tell him. “These orders are for my big brother.”
“The one I saw you climbing like a tree?” he asks, deadpan.
“The same.” I lift my chin. “He hasn’t had decent food in a long time, so make it good.”
“It’s always good,” Cookie grouses. “You know that.”
But he gets to work, dishing up the food. Soon I have two piping hot platters to put on my tray. One is loaded with meatloaf and mashed potatoes and green beans and the other has fried chicken, buttery corn, and a heaping helping of Cookie’s famous four-cheese mac ‘n cheese. I can’t help but be proud when I see how good it looks—I hope that Kane will like it.
I add a big glass of iced sweet tea and carry the whole thing to his table. His pale eyes get wide when he sees the spread.