“Good morning, Officer.”
“Morning, Delia,” I greet the older woman ordering her breakfast at the counter as I hold the door open for my eight-year-old daughter.
Eleanor skips inside, hands wrapped tight around the straps of her pink backpack. She pauses over the threshold and takes an exaggerated sniff.
“I LOVE this place!”
I chuckle and tuck a loose strand of her soft brown hair behind her ear. “Me too, Buttercup. Why don’t you go find us a seat, and I’ll order your favorite.”
She beams at me, her smile showcasing the missing top incisor, and takes off to our usual spot in the corner.
By the time I return my attention to the front, Delia is finished. I step up to the counter and lean my forearm against the white laminate. “In a rush this morning, Cathy.”
“What’s new?” She rolls her eyes and clears the till. “One unicorn pancake with sausage. What’ll you be having?” Sherattles off Nellie’s order from memory. I’m a bit harder to nail down.
“The Platter is fine.”
“Three eggs or five?”
I check my watch. “Better make it three. I’m short on time.”
She tsks. “That’s not enough for a man like you, Sutton. You need a full belly if you want to have the energy to keep this town safe.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t change the fact I’m short on time. If I’m late again and lose my job, I won’t be able to afford breakfast from you.”
The wrinkles beside her assessing eyes crinkle as she looks between Nellie and me. “When are you going to get yourself some help?”
I tap my card on the reader. “Don’t need it.”
“Is that why you’re buying breakfast before school instead of making it?”
I return the card to my wallet and shove it back into my pocket. “Can’t I treat my girl to her favorite pancakes?”
“This is the third time I’ve seen you this month.”
“So?”
“The month started a week ago.”
I reach over and rip the receipt from the till. “Not your business, Cath.”
“You want coffee with that?” she yells at my retreating back.
“Yes, please. OJ for Nellie.”
“Got it, Sutton.”
I flick my fingers behind my head in a short salute and advance to my table. Nellie leans over so far she’s nearly on the table top as she scribbles erratically with a green crayon.
The metal chair scrapes across the floor as I yank out my seat. “What are you drawing?”
Her tongue pokes out of the side of her mouth. “A elephant.”
I squint, blurring the drawing until the image appears. “Ah. I see it. What about this one?” I tap another shape near the edge with my blunt fingernail.
“That’s a monkey, Daddy.”
The long tail looks more like it belongs on a cat or maybe a rodent, but I see the vision. “I knew that.”