Chapter 14
The Red, White & Brew Café on Main Street looks like Uncle Sam dropped into town and then decided to open a restaurant.
Every surface is draped in something star-spangled, and even the servers are wearing enough flag-themed clothing to outfit a small parade—like the town isn’t in the middle of a murder investigation.
The outdoor patio where Cooper and Loretta are sitting features miniature American flags sprouting from Mason jar centerpieces—because subtlety is not on the menu. The speakers blast Fourth of July dinner music that sounds more like a political rally.
I’ve got to give it to Honey Hollow—these townsfolk really know how to lean into a holiday despite the climbing body count.
Cooper looks like he’d rather be investigating a triple homicide than having dinner with his sister, while Loretta holds court in another leopard print ensemble that has probably sent an entire slew of senior citizen men to their graves. She is heart-stopping, but not in a good way.
“There they are,” I tell Niki as we approach with Watson trotting beside us, his flag bandana coordinating perfectly with the restaurant’s aggressive patriotism. “Brace yourself for drama.”
“I live for drama,” Niki replies. “Besides, this is going to be fun. I love a good dating intervention.”
It’s true. I brought her along to help mitigate peace when it comes to Loretta’s scuffle with Nona Jo. Who knows where those two will end up if let to their own devices.
Watson barks, announcing our arrival, and immediately begins his manipulative charm offensive on nearby diners who are noshing on freedom fries and liberty burgers.
“Effie.” Cooper’s face lights up like I just shape-shifted into a human life preserver. “Perfect timing.”
Loretta looks up and fixes Niki with a look that could freeze hell in August.
“Well, well, well,” Loretta drawls, her voice dripping with an Italian attitude that could start international incidents. That is, if she hasn’t already. “If it isn’t little Niki Canelli. Still playing dress-up, I see.”
“If it isn’t, Loretta Shapoopi.” Niki rides her gaze up and down at the woman’s outfit. “You’re looking dramatic and traumatic as always.”
“Dramatic?” Loretta’s eyebrows shoot up to meet her gravity-defying hairline. “Honey, I don’t do dramatic. I do magnificent. There’s a difference.”
Evidently, she didn’t hear the traumatic party. It’s for the better.
I settle into a chair while Watson positions himself strategically between tables for maximum dropped food opportunity. “Niki thought she might be able to help with your—romantic situation.”
Loretta’s hand hits the table with enough force to make Watson’s ears perk up. “My romantic situation?” Her voice could shatter wine glasses. “Who said I have a romantic situation? I have romantic options. Multiple options.”
“Right,” Niki says with a frown. “How’s that working out for you? Last I heard, you were fighting a senior citizen over a senior citizen.”
Loretta’s red hair seems to expand with fury. “For your information, Icky Niki, Flip Flapjack is a very successful businessman with excellent equipment.” She winks and the three of us cringe.
Cooper groans. Poor guy can only take so many mental images of his baby sister hanging out with the crypt keeper.
Coop shakes his head. “Can we please not discuss Flip’s equipment when I’m about to eat?”
“What equipment?” Niki asks, suddenly a little too interested. “His grill? His deep fryer? His sausage stuffer?”
Now it’s me groaning.
“Among other things,” Loretta smirks, clearly enjoying Cooper’s discomfort. And mine.
Watson tilts his head like he’s trying to understand why humans make everything so complicated when the solution is obviously just to be adorable and hope for delicious food. My only two goals in life, really.
“Look, Loretta,” Niki says, leaning forward as she’s about to deliver a little tough love. “I’m going to be honest with you because we’re practically family.”
“We’re not family,” Loretta corrects, cold as ice. “Just because your sister’s dating my brother doesn’t make us anything. We’re strangers who happen to know the same people.”
“Fair enough.” Niki shrugs. “But as someone who hasn’t racked up multiple divorces like frequent flyer miles, maybe I know a thing or two about keeping a man.”
“From you?” Loretta says, a thin smile pulling at her lips. “Someone who treats boyfriends like accessories? And changes them more than she changes her nail polish? That’s adorable.”
It’s true. And oddly, it’s more than she changes underwear. I’m not sure what that says about Niki.
“At least I’m not competing with a retirement community,” my sister snaps.
“Okay,” Cooper cuts in. “Let’s dial it back. There are kids around.”
“What kids?” Lorretta snaps.
“Watson counts,” Cooper says, pointing to our dog, who’s currently investigating a fallen French fry like it might confess.
“That dog has better dating instincts than both of you,” I tell Niki and Loretta. “He sees something he wants, goes for it, and doesn’t overthink it.”
“Exactly my point,” Loretta declares. “I see what I want, I take it. End of story. That’s called confidence. You should try it.”
Niki snorts. “Confidence? Honey, you don’t date, you rotate.”
Loretta’s smile goes tight. “At least I get picked.”
“Oh, you get picked,” Niki says. “You just don’t get kept.”
“Listen to me, sweetheart,” Loretta snaps. “I’ve had more husbands than you’ve had serious relationships.”
“And how many of those made it past the honeymoon?” Niki fires back. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’re batting zero after the first fight.”
Loretta leans in, her voice dropping. “Careful. You’re not exactly bringing in quality control over there.”
Niki laughs. “Please. I’d rather have options than a track record.”
Watson gives a soft woof, letting us know we’re annoying him, then returns to the serious business of positioning himself for optimal treat acquisition.
“You know what your problem is?” Niki continues, apparently unaware that she’s poking a bear dressed as a leopard. “You’re thinking like it’s 1955. Modern dating requires modern solutions.” She pulls out her phone and wags it our way. “This is where all the good men are hiding these days.”
Loretta recoils like Niki just offered her a live snake. “I don’t need the internet to find men! That’s for desperate women who can’t get dates the traditional way.”
“You mean by ambushing them at restaurants and starting catfights with senior citizens?” I ask.
“That was a strategic territorial dispute,” Loretta huffs. “And I won.”
“You got escorted out by management,” Cooper reminds her.
“Details,” Loretta waves dismissively.
Niki scrolls through her phone, ignoring Loretta’s digital dating horror. “Look what I just found. Sparks and Stripes Speed Dating at the lake pavilion on July Fourth. It’s perfect!”
I love how she goes from insulting the woman to becoming her wingman. That’s my sister.
She shows us the screen, which features an ad with holiday appropriate graphics and the tagline, Find Your Fireworks Match!
“Three minutes per man,” Niki says. “In, out, no wasted time. It’s like shopping, but with better lighting.”
Loretta narrows her eyes. “Three minutes is barely enough to order a drink.”
“It’s enough to check the watch, the shoes, and whether he says, ‘My ex was crazy,’” Niki shoots back.
“That’s fair,” Loretta admits, almost against her will.
Niki brightens, sensing momentum. “Ages thirty-five to fifty-five. Prime range.”
“Prime for who?” Loretta says, but she’s already leaning in to read.
“For you,” Niki says. “Financially stable, emotionally available, still has decent knees—this is your lane.”
Loretta scoffs. “Please. I don’t need a lane. I create traffic.”
“Sure,” Niki says. “But this way the traffic lines up for you.”
Loretta considers that. “Three minutes…” she murmurs. “That’s enough time to assess income, posture, and whether he lies about his height.”
“And if he opens with crypto,” Niki adds, “you walk.”
“Immediately,” Loretta agrees.
I blink between them. “Are you two getting along?”
“Don’t get used to it,” they say in unison.
Watson huffs like he’s disappointed this isn’t escalating into snacks.
“It’s like a romantic cattle call with fireworks,” Niki says, way too excited about this.
Loretta goes still. “Did you just compare my dating life to livestock?”
Watson gives a low whine, then immediately abandons the tension to track a passing plate of patriotic popcorn shrimp like it’s his true purpose. It sort of is.
“Only in a high-demand, premium-cut kind of way,” Niki says quickly. “Look, I could coach you. Prep you. Wardrobe, strategy—”
“Wardrobe?” Loretta cuts in, a laugh slipping out that has edges. “Sweetheart, I was dressing to kill when you were still picking out stickers. I don’t take fashion notes from someone who thinks formal means less glitter.”
“I do glitter,” Niki snaps. “I just don’t weaponize it.”
Loretta smiles, slowly. “If you’re not using it, what’s the point?”
Niki opens her mouth, then pauses. “Okay, that’s actually fair.”
I blink. “Did we just have some emotional growth?”
“Don’t push it,” they both say.
Watson sneezes like he agrees.
“Thrift store sequins don’t count,” Loretta sniffs.
“These are designer sequins!” Niki gestures at her outfit.
“Designer discount bin, maybe.”
Cooper glowers at them both. “Why do I feel like I just paid for front-row seats to this?” Cooper groans.
“Because you did,” I tell him. “Welcome to the main event. We’ll even let you tip the waiter.”
He frowns my way.
“Fine,” Loretta announces suddenly, her mood shifting like a summer storm. “I’ll try your little speed dating circus. But I have conditions.”
“Name them,” Niki says, surprised by the sudden cooperation.
“First, you help me prepare, but I choose my own outfit. These girls,” she gestures to her boobs, “have their own marketing department.”
No lies detected.
“Agreed,” Niki says with a shrug.
Cooper looks like he wants the ground to swallow him whole.
“Second,” Loretta Sagittarius continues, “you prep me, but if I spot a better angle, you’re benched.”
“Eh.” Niki shrugs. “Acceptable.”
“Third”—Cooper lifts a finger as he bursts into this conversation willingly—“Effie provides moral support and keeps Loretta from saying anything that might result in lawsuits.”
“Hey!” I protest. “When did I become part of this operation?”
“When you brought the dating guru,” Cooper points out. “You’re an accessory to whatever disaster happens next.”
“And fourth,” Loretta continues, “if this speed dating thing doesn’t work, I reserve the right to go back to my original plan of targeting recently widowed men at country club funerals.”
“Deal,” Niki says quickly, probably figuring that speed dating can’t possibly be worse than whatever Loretta’s funeral home strategy involves.
Watson looks between all of us like he’s not entirely sure what he just got signed up for, but he’s willing to commit as long as snacks are part of the deal.
“This should be interesting,” Cooper mutters, finishing his beer in one long gulp.
“Interesting?” Loretta grins, and it’s not entirely pleasant. “Honey, by the time I’m done with that speed dating event, half those men will be proposing marriage and the other half will be checking their life insurance policies.”
We order dinner, and I can’t help but think that July Fourth is shaping up to be more explosive than anyone planned.
Between the murder investigation, a booth decorating contest, and Loretta gearing up for a full-blown romantic demolition derby, this holiday weekend is going to take more than a few fireworks to survive.
Some dinners end with pleasant conversation and dessert.
Ours end with a full strategy session around Loretta’s love life while my dog handles snack acquisition like it’s his calling.
At this point, Watson might be the only one at this table making solid decisions.