"Tina Anne? As in Tina Anne Owens?" Abraham glanced up from his still open menu, waiting until Tammy nodded before continuing. "Tina Anne had her tummy tucked and her butt lifted for her eighteenth birthday. She also had a nose job. And a chin job." He closed his menu, tugging mine from under my hands and setting it on top of his. "Nothing on Tina Anne is real, including her hair color."
"Besides, as someone who's been dealing with the same issue my entire life, you can starve yourself down to skin and bones and your breasts would still be too big for the prudes in this town." Reaching across the table, I flipped open her menu and jammed my finger against the plastic cover. "Order something because we're sitting here until you do."
"Fine." Somehow, Tammy managed to lift her chin even higher and I found myself praying, rather unreasonably, that the ceiling wouldn't spring a leak because she'd sure as hell get more than a few droplets up-or rather down-her nose at its current angle. "I can eat egg whites. And Canadian bacon. And dry toast."
"You can, although I don't see how you're going to enjoy it when we're all eating waffles and other fried food." I snuck a look at Abraham out of the corner of my eye. "Although I'm not sure about this one. He may be in to egg whites and things without butter."
"While I don't have anything against the concept of egg whites in general, I feel as if I should load up on the carbs this morning." Under the table, he rested a hand on my knee and squeezed gently, although I wasn't sure if it was a warning or a promise. "I used up a lot of calories last night."
Before any of the kids could ask him what he meant, a girl who looked a few years older than Tammy bounced over, all smiles and dimples and dark hair so curly it would have made Shirley Temple jealous. She beamed at each one of us in turn, the wattage of her grin going up a hundred fold when her gaze landed on Abraham. "Hey, there, everybody-Mr. Hansom. Welcome to the Cracked Egg. Would you like to hear about our specials today or are you ready to order?"
"I think we're ready, Sue." Abraham answered before I could, rattling off orders for all of us, including drinks. I wasn't sure whether I was impressed at what had to be his mind-reading skills or annoyed at the presumptive nature. The server hadn't even left the table before he turned to me and said, "Sorry if that was high-handed but if I didn't step in she'd stand here all day trying to flirt with me and we'd never get any food."
"Uh-huh." I shifted my gaze from him to Sue, her smile replaced by thin lips and red cheeks and flaring nostrils. "Honey, if one of those glasses of water lands in his lap, I'll swear seven ways to Sunday it was an accident."
Some of the tightness in her face eased as she stuffed her pen and ordering pad in her apron pocket. "As satisfying as that would be, I'd be worried about getting some on your dress. I'll be back with your drinks in a few minutes."
As soon as she walked away-with a great deal less pep than she'd arrived with-I twisted and turned until I was able to punch Abraham's shoulder. "I know social movements tend to travel slow in this part of the state but I would have thought the concept of not being an asshole to people in the service industry would have made it here by now." When Tammy scowled and started to open her mouth, I snapped my fingers and pointed at her. "And I've just about had it with you telling me to watch my language. I'm the adult and you're the kid, so why don't you keep that in mind before you say whatever you're thinking about saying?"
She snapped her teeth together hard enough for me to hear the resulting click, crossed her arms, and turned to look out the window.
"Ooh, Tammy got in trouble." Dolly didn't quite sing out the words but it was damn close. Even Conway was smiling, although that might have been because he'd finally finished rearranging his doll's dress and if there was only one thing I knew about my nephew it was the importance of his doll being absolutely perfect. My younger niece bounced in her seat and clapped her hands, giggling. "Tammy never gets in trouble."
"She's not in trouble." I did a quick backpedal when Dolly and Conway stopped smiling. "I'm annoyed with her and I'm hoping to God she stops trying to be a know-it-all but she's not getting punished or anything."
That seemed to pacify Dolly, who grabbed the coloring sheet the hostess had given her and went to work with the same sort of attention Conway showed his doll. Conway stared at me a moment longer before tugging over his own coloring sheet, studying it with all the seriousness of an art critic analyzing a Warhol before selecting a single crayon and starting to color. Tammy pulled a paperback book out of her purse, straightened her shoulders and her spine to a stiffness which made my own bones ache in response, and proceeded to ignore me entirely.
Which left me no distraction from Abraham or his hand, still warm and heavy on my knee.
"So you bought-."
"So how long have you-."
We both stopped talking at the same time, an awkward pause settling between us for a few seconds before Abraham laughed and shook his head. "You first."
"How long have you owned the Watering Hole?" I shifted a few inches away so I was able to turn and face him, freezing when he tightened his grip on my thigh. Clearing my throat, I looked pointedly at his hand. "Do you mind?"
"No." He flashed a grin. "Do you?"
"Hmm." Since pressing the issue would draw attention from... everywhere, I decided to let it go for the moment. "The Watering Hole?"
"Four, five years. Something like that." He shrugged, as if it was absolutely normal for someone to forget how long they'd been a business owner. "After college, I tried a few things. None of them seemed to suit. This did."
"Right." I stayed silent while Sue delivered our drinks, smiling when she set Abraham's orange juice down with enough force to have more than a few drops slopping over the rim of the glass. When she marched off again, I said, "Your turn."
"You bought the old Fisher house."
"That's not a question."
"You're smart enough to know the question was implied, Jeannie Jackson."
"Why do you do that? Use my full name?"
"Answer my question and I'll answer yours."
"Fine." I took a sip of coffee, pleasantly surprised when it was smooth and rich instead of sharp and bitter. "I bought it because it was one of the few places in town large enough to suit my needs and still within walking distance of the school."
"Oh, I'm sure that wasn't the only reason but I'll accept it for now." He mopped up the juice spill, folding the napkin in a neat little square before glancing at me. "You wanted to know why I use your full name?"
"I'm waiting with bated breath."
"Because I like it." He flashed me another grin, this one devilish enough I was thankful the kids weren't paying us any attention. "Just like I like when you call me ‘Mr. Hansom'."
"I'm sure you do." Ashamed at the breathy note in my voice, I took another, longer sip of coffee, hoping the singeing of my tongue would keep me from tripping over it. "Your question."
"What are you doing this afternoon?"
"Excuse me?" I blinked, more to buy myself a few seconds than because I hadn't heard him. "What?"
"What are you doing this afternoon, Jeannie Jackson?" He leaned toward me, apparently unconcerned with the number of people watching us with the sort of rapt attention usually reserved for car crashes, train wrecks, and other tragedies. Lowering his voice, he said, "There are a few things at the bar I didn't get to show you last night which I'm sure you would find very... interesting."
"Right." If my voice had been breathy before, it was downright feeble now. I had to clear my throat three times before I had enough spit to respond. "I don't know. Packing, probably."
"We're not moving for another two weeks." Tammy didn't glance up from her book so she missed the glare I shot her. "Packing now would be a waste of time because Dolly and Conway would just unpack everything and we'd have to pack it all again."
"Then do you mind watching the two littlest rugrats while I show your aunt the bar?" Abraham waited until she looked up, widening his smile when her face softened, no doubt in response to the charm he was throwing at her. "The Watering Hole does pretty decent but it'd be nice to get the kind of publicity your aunt's magazine could provide."
"Sure." Tammy turned her attention back to her book, a bright cherry flush creeping up her cheeks. "No problem."