“Is it the usual, Mr Tomlinson?”
“Sorry?”
“The usual?”
“Oh yes, the usual. Ham on rye with mustard.”
“With the crusts cut off.”
“Just go ahead and cut them crusts off, you betcha.”
“You got it.”
The moment Brenda turned away from him to deliver the order, her smile was gone, and Amber watched as Tomlinson’s own smile slowly faded. He stood there, staring into space. Amber’s mom had once said something about friends and fake smiles, but that was Amber’s mom, so Amber banished the memory from her mind.
A woman came in behind Tomlinson and the smile suddenly reappeared as he turned.
“Morning, Jackie,” he said.
“Morning, Brett,” Jackie said. “Good weather for fishing.”
“It is.”
“Getting your usual?”
“Yes, I am. Ham on rye with mustard, with the crusts cut off. Hey, how’s little Everett doing?”
“He’s doing fine,” said Jackie. “He had a bad cough that went on for a few days. I thought it might be a chest infection, but it cleared up on its own.”
“I heard that,” Tomlinson said, nodding. “I heard he had a cough.”
Brenda arrived back, handed Tomlinson a brown paper bag. “Here you go, Mr Tomlinson. Your usual.”
“Much obliged, Brenda,” Tomlinson said, handing over the exact change. He tipped his hat to them both. “You have a good day now, ladies.”
They smiled at him and he walked out, and then they turned those smiles on each other.
“How you doing today, Jackie?” Brenda asked. “How’s that boy of yours?”
“He’s good,” Jackie said. “He had a cough, but it cleared up. You all set for Book Club tonight?”
“I am,” Brenda said. “What did you think of it?”
“A little racier than what I’m used to,” Jackie said. “Did you like it?”
“I thought it was fine. Racy, like you said.”
“Maybe too racy?”
“Probably too racy. What can I get for you?”
“Just a coffee, thanks. In one of those cardboard cups.”
“To go?”
“To go, yes. With cream and sugar.”
Brenda smiled as she busied herself at the coffee machine. “No fancy lattes or espressos for you.”
“No, thank you!” Jackie said, and both women laughed.
Amber didn’t know what the hell they had to laugh about, but she kept her mouth shut.
For the next few minutes, she sat there and watched the patrons and staff of Fast Danny’s interact with one another. They were unfailingly polite and bizarrely cheerful, and they walked around with bright smiles at the ready – smiles that vanished the moment they thought no one was watching them. But Amber was.
When her breakfast was ready, Brenda returned to her table, set the plate down. Along with her scrambled eggs, she had bacon, sausages and hash browns – all fully intact.
“Um,” said Amber, but Brenda was already walking away.
Amber looked back at her food, then tried to pick up her knife and fork. When she failed laughably at this, she did her best to catch Brenda’s eye, but Brenda was doing an admirable job of ignoring her. Exasperated, Amber looked around, accidentally making eye contact with an old man sitting alone. He wasn’t as old as Brett Tomlinson, but he was catching up fast. He gave her a little smile, glanced at her hands, and folded his newspaper. He stood and walked over.
“You need any help with that?” he asked.
Amber’s first instinct was to thank him for his offer and decline – but that wouldn’t get her food cut up.
“Thank you,” she said. “Yes, please.”
He nodded, hitched his pants and sat, then took her knife and fork and cut up the food.
“Thanks very much,” said Amber.
“No problem,” he said. “I’m Benjamin.”
“Amber.”
“What happened to your hands, Amber, if it’s not too personal a question?”
“I, uh, I caught them in a car door.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Say you did?”
She nodded. “Yep. Broke almost all my fingers.”
“Caught both hands in a car door?” Benjamin asked. “What on earth were you doing?”
“Well, uh, I’m not actually sure. It was something stupid.”
“I’d wager,” said Benjamin, but in a nice way, and Amber laughed. “Was it that black car you came in? Oh, don’t look so surprised. We’re a small town in the middle of nowhere in Alaska – newcomers set tongues a-wagging, and distinctive cars more so.”
“I see,” she said. “But no, it was another car. I’m just clumsy, I guess, and pretty useless until my fingers mend, so my uncle decided to take me on a road trip while I wait.”
“Always wanted to go on a road trip,” Benjamin said, a little wistfully, “but never had anywhere to go to. Where you headed?”
She shrugged. “It’s not the destination that matters – it’s the journey.”
Benjamin chuckled. “That what your uncle says?”
“My uncle doesn’t say an awful lot. What’s it like here, by the way? I’m assuming it’s a nicer town than the name suggests.”
“You’d think,” said Benjamin. He finished cutting the food and placed the knife and fork on the edge of the plate for Amber. “The people are pleasant, you can leave your door unlocked, and three hundred sixty-four days out of the year it’s as peaceful as peaceful can be. But the days are long and getting longer, and, if you want my advice, I wouldn’t stay here.”
Amber sipped her juice. “No?”
He glanced around, making sure no one could overhear. “This is not a nice place to visit, Amber. I have no doubt you’re going to be made to feel very unwelcome in the next day or so. You might even warrant a visit from the Police Chief himself.”
“Seriously? We haven’t done anything.”
“That doesn’t matter. Chief Novak is notorious for running transients out of town on the slightest of whims.”
“We’re not transients. We’re staying at the motel.”
“Novak’ll still see you as a transient – as will the rest of the fine folk of Desolation Hill.”
She leaned closer. “Benjamin, what’s this festival they’re all talking about?”
He smiled sadly, and shook his head. “I’m sorry. There are some things I’m not comfortable discussing in public. You have a good day now.”
“Oh God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”
He stood. “You didn’t, young lady. Not at all. You have a good day now, you hear?”
He walked back to his table, picked up his newspaper, and left. Amber sat there until the rumblings in her belly became too loud to ignore, and she