“I like golf too,” Minnie replies. “My father played.”
I wrap a strand between two of my fingers, twisting and toying with the ends. “Is it your favorite thing as well?”
Minnie twists her lips and shakes her head. “No, my favorite thing is fancy pens.”
“Like Montblanc or Cartier?” I ask, and she laughs.
“Not that fancy. I mean like different colored pens. Pretty ones. I color coded all my notes in school like a nerd.” Her face goes a little dreamy with memories. “My dad always gave me pens for my birthday, and Santa put some in my stocking every year. Glitter pens, gel pens. Ooh, one year I got metallic ones. You know, the kind that write on black paper?”
Every little tidbit she shares makes me want to know one more thing about her. I can picture a little red-haired girl squealing with delight over a pack of flashy pens, and it pushes a genuine smile across my lips.
“Does your dad still give you pens every year?”
The wistful look on her face tells me I hit a nerve. “No, he passed away when I was a teenager.”
I wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her closer, the warmth of her body pressing against my side. “I’m sorry, Minnie. I know that had to be hard.”
She sniffles a little but her eyes remain dry. “It was, and at least I still have my mom. She’s the most stubborn woman in existence, but I love her.” Minnie lets out a little chuckle. “Of course, we get along a lot better since we don’t live under the same roof. We’re still close though; we live across the street from each other.”
“I’m glad you have?—”
I’m cut off when a group of about fifteen people enters the restaurant, laughing and practically yelling with excitement. The woman leading the way is in a wedding dress, complete with a long-ass trainbeing carried by two women in fluorescent yellow bridesmaids’ dresses. The apparent groom is in a black cowboy hat and a rumpled tuxedo that looks like he jumped out of a plane in it.
“Wow, looks like they just came from their wedding,” Minnie notes as we watch them approach Elmo at the hostess stand.
But she was wrong. They proceed to have a goddamn wedding right there in the Waffle House, led by a weary looking clergyman.
I shake my head at the ridiculousness of it, but I still clap wildly, along with the rest of the patrons, when the groom kisses the bride and sets his cowboy hat atop her head.
Minnie leans closer to me. “I’ve seen a lot of things at Waffle Ho, but this has to be a first.”
“It was definitely… a choice,” I say, laughing.
“I’m assuming your brother isn’t getting married at a Waffle Ho tomorrow?”
I chuckle at the thought. “Definitely not. The bride’s father wouldn’t allow anything other than perfection.”
Her eyebrows pinch together. “You don’t seem to like her father. What about the bride herself?”
Doing my best to sound neutral, I say, “She’s very different from Phe. He’s so easygoing, the nicest guy you’d ever meet, and she’s very uptight.”
“Does he love her?” Minnie asks.
My head bobs up and down. “He does, but I worry she doesn’t love him as much. To be honest, she’s a bit cold.”
Our conversation pauses when Cookie Monster brings our food. Grease pools at the bottom of the plate, and I don’t even care. It looks fucking delicious.
We talk and eat, sharing bites of our food and a few syrupy kisses as we debate the benefits of waffles versus pancakes.
“I can’t believe you eat your eggs scrambled,” Minnie says. “Those poor chicken babies.”
I quirk a brow and point at her remaining over-easy egg. “You had them fry your chicken baby.”
She cuts off a bite and chews it thoughtfully. “Yeah, but scrambled seems so much more violent with all the beating.”
I think I’ve smiled more tonight than I ever have in my life. Even when Elmo and a huge chef named Oscar—ofthe Grouchvariety, I assume—get into a screaming fight. After which Elmo marches out into the parking lot, followed by Oscar. When she punches him in the face, I reach for my phone, but before I can dial the police, Elmo and Oscar are making out like nobody’s business. They return a few minutes later, both of them grinning with Elmo’s neon magenta lipstick smeared all over their faces.
“Well,” I say drolly, “that was unexpected.”