Chapter 2 Talbot
TALBOT
Before I can break the kiss and tell Misty that actually maybe we should christen the shop, the front door bangs open.
“I hope you ate already, Talbot. That horrible woman is cooking.” Granny Keagan stomps in. “I’m trying to convince Misty to ditch and come to the strip club. You can come too. It’s inclusive.”
“He’s meeting his brother,” Misty says.
“Ah! A clandestine meeting.” Granny Keagan taps her head. “He had a lot of customers come in after you went off house hunting, Misty.”
Misty cringes. Did she not want me to know about the house? She hadn’t mentioned it on the few encrypted calls we had while I was “traveling.”
“If you want to do a community service besides getting rid of Millicent down at city hall—I swear to god, Cocoa could do a better job processing work orders—that dang pothole’s been in the alley since last Christmas.
No, I need you to see if you can fit a clam tank on your roof.
The clam guy overcharges, and let’s do pizza on Fridays.
I have the liquor license; you have the oven. ”
Misty’s phone rings. “Yes, Mom, we won’t be late…” She looks at me. “Talbot, are you still coming?”
“Spam and Eggs doesn’t deserve to have this god among men at her table.” Granny Keagan shakes her fist.
“You don’t have to come.” Misty seems anxious.
“I’ll be there. I promise.”
Misty kisses me goodbye, then she waves her grandmother and a grumbling Cocoa to the door.
I watch them leave.
It was strange to be gone again and stranger to be back.
I stare around the cheese shop—the gleaming counters, the glass cases. In one corner, there’s a large imported wood oven.
Misty seems jumpy, and now this house—the one-person-sized house.