Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 100988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 505(@200wpm)___ 404(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 505(@200wpm)___ 404(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
I wonder what’ll be written on the rest of his pages about me.
When I arrive at Country Lovin’, the place is (frustratingly) far more crowded than I was hoping for. I am greeted by a teenage guy, who tells me it’s going to be a fifteen-minute wait even for a party of one, as there are many others also waiting on a table. I bite my lip in frustration and debate whether these heaven-sent crepes are really worth starving another fifteen-plus minutes for.
From across the restaurant, I hear someone shout my name. I turn to find Mindy sitting with some friends at a table, waving at me frantically. “Over here!” she calls out. “We got a spot for you!”
Half the restaurant turns my way.
My morning’s starting out just dashingly.
“Oh, you had friends?” asks the host innocently, surprised.
I shoot him a look. “I had plenty of friends back in my day, thank you,” I retort at him, misunderstanding completely.
He gives me a totally baffled look, then nods. “No wait for you, then. Here’s a menu, sir.”
I wince apologetically at the teen. “Sorry. I’m hangry. Thanks.” I take the menu from him and cut across the restaurant. I force myself to give a nod of acknowledgement to at least eight people along the way, who all give me some form of “Hi!”, or tiny wave of their hand, or pleasant Sprucian (Sprucal? Sprucish? Has anyone determined an adjective yet?) smile. I figure it’d be rude not to, at the very least, recognize everyone’s kindness.
When I reach the table, I find Mindy, three women I went to school with named Elissa, Whitney, and Nadia, and—of all people—Billy. Or should I say Billy Tucker-Strong now?
Mindy gives Billy a gesture. “Go get another chair! There’s an unused one over there, go get it! Lance,” she says for a greeting as Billy, who doesn’t look pleased at being bossed around, fetches me a chair from a nearby table. “You left the mixer so fast! You and Chad! Where did you two go off to?”
I sit down in the chair Billy placed at the head of the table, thank him with a tight-lipped nod I hope doesn’t come off as rude, then face Mindy. “Sorry, but I already got grilled by Virginia at the hotel, and I really don’t want to get back into that. By the way, you guys owe her a platter dish.”
Mindy huffs and eyes Billy from across the table. “That dish-breaking incident was your fault, Mr. Can’t Dance.”
Billy sighs. “Who do I look like? Jimmy freakin’ Strong? And that punch was way over-spiked. Probably over some legal limit or somethin’. I was falling over after just a few cups.”
“Yeah, yeah, blame the punch.” Mindy rolls her eyes with a laugh, then faces me again. “Okay, listen, I know you want to eat, and I swear I’ll let you, but I need your help.”
“Mindy …” Billy mumbles warningly.
“I don’t wanna hear it, Billy. Just because you’re a gay man with no fashion sense doesn’t mean I can’t hit up the one who professionally has one.” She lifts an eyebrow at me. “The short of it is, we all want to dress to impress tonight at the reunion, and more importantly, the party afterwards at the Evans’s.”
Elissa, Whitney, and Nadia shoot each other playful looks with mischievous smiles on their faces.
I squint at each of them. “Are you saying—?”
“I want to go shopping with you,” Mindy confirms. “After you eat your crepes, of course. Assuming that’s what you’re here for.”
“Don’t get the waffles,” Elissa mumbles, then makes a gagging face. “There’s somethin’ up with that batter.”
“I want to feel sexy, which I haven’t felt since long before I had the twins,” Mindy further explains. “And Nadia wants to hook up with Vanessa’s brother, who is ten years younger than us and has his head in the clouds about a garage band he’s in.” “Hey!” Nadia protests, but Mindy carries on: “And if you’d oblige him, can you help Mr. Sour-Face Billy here find something stylish to wear, too?”
Billy, clearly not onboard the train, glares at her. “Thanks, but I think I can dress myself just fine.”
“And everyone here at this table—and your husband Tanner—can sit in silent disagreement with you. Seriously, Billy, you need help. Your wardrobe is a skipping record of plaid.” Then, ignoring the shocked look Billy gives her, Mindy faces me with sudden concern. “You don’t mind helping us, do you? Isn’t all of this what you do for a living? Like, professionally? Dressing people up and making them look like somebody else?”
I have a lot of things I could say. A lot of assumptions I could correct. A lot of education that could be had right now.
Instead, I find myself too hungry to be that guy today. “Sure,” I tiredly answer. It’s not like I had anything else planned. I just have a bunch of nothing until the reunion this evening. “After I get some crepes, let’s go shopping. But I can’t promise top-notch work in a …” I sigh tragically. “… a place like Spruce, Texas.”