Chapter Three #3
Bree just nodded, everything still fuzzy as she watched the woman walk. Bree was still staring at the doorway when the woman came back out a few moments later, an older man behind her.
She’d made the bottles.
“Thank you,” she whispered. She felt like crying she was so thankful for the kindness.
“This is my Dan. He and I are just going to feed your babies. Is that okay? You just sit there and rest, okay?”
“Okay.” She leaned her head against the back of the booth and watched as the older couple spoke soothingly to both children before putting the bottles up to their tiny faces.
Then there was blessed silence.
Then there was nothing at all.
THE FIRST THING that penetrated Bree’s consciousness as she awoke was the silence. Followed by liquid under her cheek. It took her a moment to realize she’d been sleeping with her arms folded on a table.
Where were Christian and Beth?
She jackknifed upright, looking around. The carriers were still in the booth, but neither baby was there.
Terror slammed into her like a sledgehammer. How long had she been asleep? How could she have let this happen? She bolted out of the booth, looking around frantically, then came to an abrupt halt.
There at a corner table, the old couple—what were their names? Dan and Sherri? No, Cheryl—were holding the babies, cooing and smiling at them.
A half dozen other people of varying ages were standing around, too, talking, smiling, reaching over Dan and Cheryl to make funny faces at the twins.
It was like something out of a television show. Not even a show from this decade. Something from forty years ago.
It definitely wasn’t something she’d ever been a part of herself. Emotions weren’t easy for her on any given day. But this? She had no idea how to react to this scenario.
“Hey, honey.” Cheryl smiled up at her, a noncrying Christian in her arms. “Are you feeling better? We weren’t sure if you needed a doctor but finally figured maybe you just needed a little break from these two. Babies can be so exhausting.”
“Um, yes. I guess I did.”
Dan smiled at her, standing and handing Beth over. “Thanks for letting us hold your young’uns.” His Southern accent was more pronounced than Cheryl’s. “We haven’t had babies to hold in a long time. Hope you don’t mind.”
Bree just shook her head, still feeling like she was in some black-and-white television show. As if someone would tell John Boy good-night at any moment.
“No, I don’t mind. Thank you. I’m not sure what happened, but I feel a lot better.”
Dan patted her shoulder. “Why don’t you sit down with everyone and I’ll go make you something to eat in the back.”
Bree looked at the group, teeth grinding. She didn’t have anything against people sitting around chatting, she just didn’t think she was capable of joining them. Didn’t know how.
Dan smiled gently at her. “Or, if gabbing like a bunch of squawking ducks doesn’t suit your fancy, you’re welcome to come in the back with me. Bring the baby, or I’m positive they’ll all fight to the death for the chance to hold her.”
Bree wasn’t quite sure what to do, so she kept Beth in her arms as she followed Dan into the kitchen, using the baby almost as a shield. Not that she thought the older man would do her any physical harm, but from all the questions she knew would have to be coming.
But the only question Dan asked was if she would prefer the breakfast sampler or Cheryl’s famous meat loaf.
Bree would much rather have the breakfast food, but she didn’t want to make a social faux pas by insulting the famous meat loaf in this sitcom she was currently starring in.
“The breakfast sampler does come with pancakes, so I can’t blame you if that’s the route you’d rather go.” Dan winked at her.
“I do like pancakes,” she whispered, pulling Beth a little closer.
“Then pancakes it is.”
She offered to help, but Dan would hear nothing of it as he made her food. When Cheryl stuck her head through the window and told him someone wanted the daily, Dan didn’t even bat an eye, just immediately started fixing the meat loaf platter.
He never asked Bree any questions about where she was from, what she was doing or why she’d fallen asleep in the middle of his restaurant.
Just whistled, working contentedly in a kitchen he obviously was very familiar with.
He passed the daily special order out to Cheryl, then added a couple more pancakes to the griddle, putting them on Bree’s plate as soon as she’d finished the first ones.
“Oh, I don’t know if I should...” She trailed off. It wasn’t that she wasn’t hungry enough to eat them, she just didn’t want to be completely greedy.
“Might as well finish them now,” he said. “I hate to waste food if I don’t need to.”
That was all the invitation she needed. He even reached out and took Beth from her so she could more easily cut and engulf the pancakes.
She took Beth back when she was finished. She was pretty amazed how a couple hours of sleep and a full meal made her almost feel like she could handle the situation she found herself in.
Although that was just as much fiction as any sitcom. Except not as funny.
Because what was she going to do once she left here?
“Thank you.” She took the plate back to the dishwashing sink and began washing it off.
“It’s my pleasure. I enjoy seeing someone partaking in my food with such exuberance—”
Cheryl came rushing back through the kitchen door, Christian sleeping in one carrier, the empty one in her other hand. “We just had a bus full of tourists pull up. I sent Judy home an hour ago because her husband’s been so sick. I didn’t think we’d have much business tonight.”
Dan began setting out items of food he’d need for the group. “By the time you call her and she gets back here, it’ll be too late.”
“I can help.” The words were out of her mouth before Bree knew they would come—a common problem for her—but it was still true.
It was the least she could do given that they’d basically allowed her to set up camp here.
Tanner had told her to put it on his tab, but there was no way she was doing that.
“The kids have been fed, and if you’ve got an office or somewhere we can sit them, I’ll keep an eye on them while I wait or bus tables or whatever you need.
Consider it payment for today’s room and board. ”
Both Dan and Cheryl were shaking their heads no, communicating silently with each other, and she thought they weren’t going to let her.
She didn’t blame them—they didn’t know her at all.
But Cheryl opened the door off the back of the kitchen to a small office.
“If you don’t mind, we can definitely use your help.
Dan and I are getting too old for rushes like this alone.
But you’re definitely going to get paid. That’s not negotiable.”
“I sort of lost my purse. I don’t really have stuff for tax purposes.” She didn’t like lying to them, but the less they knew about her, the better.
Dan tossed her an apron. “We’ll worry about Uncle Sam later. Right now, get those young’uns stashed away and let’s get these tourists fed.”