Theo #2
“You’ve gotta be. All the apartments are condemned.
” She looked out the window, and I followed her line of sight.
Lining the square were a bunch of old shops, all on the first floor.
Various faded signs were above the doors, half of them so old that I could barely read them.
On the second floor were either boarded-up windows or cracked walls.
“Are those the apartments?”
“Yep. Hope you weren’t looking into them.”
“I wasn’t.”
“If you’re not at the hotel,” Henrietta mused, “and you’re not in an apartment, then are you sleeping in your car?”
“Jesus Christ. I hope not, kid. If you are, we can—”
“No, no.” I stopped her before she could offer to help—something I didn’t deserve. “I bought a place. I’m gonna fix it up and then sell it.”
Both women blinked.
Then Henrietta stood and sat next to her wife. It looked like this was interesting enough for her to finally join. “Was there even a house for sale?”
Marjorie frowned. “There was one. But no one’s gonna buy that piece of crap. Did you get a good off-market deal or something?”
I immediately knew she was talking about my piece of crap house, but it wasn’t in my plan to give out my address. “I just found something nearby that works.”
“Works? Or is full of shit?” Marjorie’s eyes narrowed at me. “You definitely bought that pile of junk, didn’t you?”
“N-no.”
“You’re lying again. I can see it. You’re the fine owner of a pile of trash.”
“He definitely is.” Henrietta sighed. “How bad is it? Give me the details.”
“Uh, it’s fine.”
“What’s fine?” The waitress returned, eyeing us both carefully. “I was in the back with my husband, but I heard some chatting out here. What did I miss?”
I wanted to fall through the floor.
None of this was in my plan and I wasn’t sure how to stop it. I didn’t want attention. I just wanted to pass through unnoticed.
My eyes slid to the door, and I wondered if I should cut my losses and get the hell out of here. I couldn’t sit still; I was about to bolt.
“Oh, you know. Henrietta’s doll collection,” Marjorie said, and I paused. Why was she not saying everything she heard? “I need someone else to talk to about it, so I conned this gentleman into listening.”
“Poor kid,” Henrietta said with a laugh. “We’re making a terrible impression.”
I blinked. They owed me nothing, but had clearly picked up on me being uncomfortable. Why did they even care?
“Just giving him the usual welcome, huh?” the waitress asked. “This is why tourists never come here.”
“Tourists never come here because the state forgot about us,” Marjorie muttered. “I’ll never forgive them for the library.”
Our server nodded before setting down my coffee and asking for my order. Then she was gone again.
“That’s Tammy,” Marjorie explained.
“Are you sure? Her name tag says something different.”
“That’s how she gets you.” Marjorie winked.
“Is this one of those hazing things? Where you lie to try to make fun of the new guy?”
“Not this time,” Henrietta said with a smile. “She’s actually telling the truth.”
“And saving you the embarrassment of letting Tammy get one over on you. Never believe a name tag.”
“G-got it.” I didn’t have anything, actually. I was so fucking lost. Why the fuck would someone wear a name tag that wasn’t theirs?
“Try the coffee,” Marjorie said, instead of confusing me further. “Let me know what you think after you put cream and sugar in it.”
“I drink it black.”
“Heaven help you then.”
I frowned and took a sip. I nearly spat it back out.
Coffee was something I discovered when I turned eighteen and was the way I got through life.
Over time, I found my favorites. I knew all the flavors, from bright and tangy to dark and chocolatey.
One of the reasons I drank my coffee black was to get every bit of the notes.
This tasted like burnt ass.
“What the fuck is that?”
“That is Strawberry Springs’ finest.” Marjorie laughed. “You had the same reaction as everyone else.”
“Strawberry Springs needs better standards.”
“You’re telling me. But no one is gonna open a coffee shop here. It would go out of business.”
My lips pressed together. I wanted to open a business of my own one day. Something legitimate with no secrets to hide. I doubted I had the personality for a coffee shop, but I did know enough about the product.
Maybe I knew too much.
I pondered it as I took another sip.
“Jeez, you can handle caffeine this late?” Henrietta asked. “I’d be jumping off the walls.”
“We haven’t been able to jump off walls since the eighties, Hen.” Marjorie laughed.
“You didn’t tell her what we were talking about.” I had to get them back on track. Either that or distract myself from the ass I was drinking. “Why?”
“Obviously you’re on edge. I mean, just look at you.” Marjorie gestured up and down. “Unlike some people, we don’t pry to the point of breaking.”
“Well, we try not to,” Henrietta added. “Marjorie loves to toe the line on what others can handle.”
“I forget not everyone has the patience like you do.”
Henrietta shook her head. “You overestimate my patience. I can’t believe I’m still married to you.”
“Well, it started because I was the only out lesbian in the state.”
“That too.”
“But you stay because I’m funny.” Marjorie winked at Henrietta and she blushed.
I’d never been around people like this, people who were so . . . open. I was an expert at not getting attached, but if I weren’t, I’d say I could like it in Strawberry Springs.
“So, any reason you’re acting like a cornered raccoon?” Marjorie asked.
“I’m . . . normal.”
“Yeah, right.”
“If he doesn’t want to answer, he doesn’t have to,” Henrietta said.
“Then tell me that, kid. I won’t get offended.”
I opened my mouth to do just that. Then something else came out. “I’m here to start over. Get away from my past. But it’s . . . hard. And I think my past might follow me.”
Both women’s eyes went wide. I looked down. I hadn’t meant to say all of that.
“You’re in the right place,” Marjorie said after a pause. “No one looks twice in these parts. And a bunch of us started over here.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, and we like it. It has something to do with small-town community?” She rolled her eyes. “Or so I’ve heard.”
“Ignore her. She cares about the people sometimes. Plus, it’s nice and quiet here.”
“That’s what I need,” I said.
“Well then. Let us be the first to say welcome to Strawberry Springs. Hopefully, we turn your short stop into a longer one.”