Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Without delay, Heidi asked, “Do you want the beef tips?”
“Yes.” Mabel put the menu back in its holder behind the napkin dispenser. “And I’ll be following that with apple pie à la mode.”
“Gotcha,” Heidi said. “Hutch drinks water. What do you want?”
“Singapore Sling?” Mabel jokingly requested.
“Ha ha,” Heidi replied, but there was amusement in her eyes. “Diet Sprite Shirley Temple?”
“Perfection.”
Heidi took off.
And Hutch sat in that booth, having watched this interaction, realizing in a manner it felt like he took an imaginary bullet, that he’d never really loved Molly.
He was young. She was sweet and pretty, and in his way, he got off on the clingy because he’d misinterpreted it as the depth of her love.
And he’d been trained, since birth, to misinterpret a lot of behavior, specifically from a female.
He was also realizing he did love Danielle, but even if they got married, they wouldn’t have worked.
It wasn’t her controlling nature, or that wasn’t all of it.
It was that he wanted a woman with drive, with hustle, with energy, humor, a thirst for life, but he didn’t want it to come with high heels, designer blouses and dinner parties. Unless they were like the ones he and Mabel had with Brett, Abigail and the kids, Doc, Nadia and Ledger and Mrs. Matthews and Mark.
He was also low-key. Laid-back.
Danielle was not.
They just didn’t fit.
Last, he was realizing all of that brought him right here.
Sitting across a booth.
From Mabel.
Mabel ordering like that with Heidi.
Funny. Cute. Natural. At one with herself. Wearing jeans that did great things to her ass, a peach Henley thermal with a scarf wrapped around her neck, her boots, her silver, her hair down, her makeup minimal.
She’d been through it since birth as well, her story far worse than anything that had hit him, and she found a professional to help her to deal with the worst parts of it, she adjusted and simply kept going.
She wasn’t an imposter.
She was a marvel.
“What?” she whispered, and it was only then he noted how she was watching him.
And it felt like another bullet hit him.
He opened his mouth.
“You. Move out.”
At these words, they both turned their heads to see Kimmy standing there.
“Oh my God,” Mabel breathed with sheer, unadulterated delight.
This might have to do with Mabel being Mabel and Kimmy wearing a Rudolf sweater, its nose glowing with a red light, an antler headband on her head decorated by colored Christmas lights that also turned on (and they were), and earrings that were a fall of old-fashioned, fat, colored lights, and they glowed too.
“Please tell me you’re Kimmy,” Mabel breathed.
“My reputation precedes me, I see,” Kimmy said. “Now get out. You’re gonna sit over there. My butt is too big to share a booth.”
Before Hutch could find some polite way to tell Kimmy to back off, or just go the impolite route, Mabel scrambled out of the booth and headed to his side.
Since obviously Mabel wanted this interaction, with nothing for it, he slid out, she slid in, he slid back in again, and of course, Heidi was there with a water tumbler for Kimmy.
Kimmy didn’t miss a beat. “Tuna melt. Extra tuna. Extra cheesy melt. Curly fries. Dr. Pepper. And a chocolate malt.”
Evidently, Kimmy was having dinner with them.
“Wait, Heidi. Should I get a chocolate malt?” Mabel asked.
“Instead of the apple pie?” Heidi asked back.
“No, in addition to,” Mabel told her.
Hutch had been on the verge of starting a conversation that would change his life, and Mabel’s, and he’d been interrupted by fucking Kimmy.
But still.
He wanted to bust out laughing.
Heidi stretched her lips out in a you’ll-regret-that-choice look without, as a waitress, directly telling a patron not to order more food.
“Okay, I’ll come in tomorrow and get one,” Mabel said.
Heidi clicked her teeth, did an exaggerated wink and walked away.
Mabel turned to Kimmy. “I’ve been wanting to meet you.”
“Everybody does,” Kimmy returned. “I’m the town character, and I take that role seriously.”
“I can see, but I wanted to ask you about your shop,” Mabel said.
“And I wanted to ask you about those religious bozos that live up where you two live,” Kimmy shot back. “Or they did, past tense.”
“Can I go first?” Mabel requested.
Kimmy sprawled back in the booth and invited, “Shoot.”
Heidi returned with the Dr. Pepper and Shirley Temple.
“I do vintage and local artisan stuff,” Mabel told Kimmy after Heidi left.
“I know,” Kimmy replied.
“But I thought maybe we could swing a deal. Especially around the major holidays where I might not be able to source much good stuff. You could put your stuff in my shop, I could sell it, keep track, give you a check at the end of the month. And maybe put up a few cards around that say something like, ‘If you like this Rudolf sweater, there’s more Christmas at Kimmy’s.’”
She quit talking and Kimmy stared at her.