“Um…”
“Never mind. I see it in your eyes that you do.”
“I—” I start to tell her that I don’t when she cuts me off again.
“My mamma was able to see things, you know?”
“Sure,” I agree, because who am I to judge? For all I know, her mom could have a gift.
“Well, I can see things too,” she says. I watch her, wondering where she’s going with this. “The guy you like, well… He’s kinda an ass, like my old man used to be,” she tells me, leaning forward like it’s a secret between us.
“Um…”
“Well, you see, he doesn’t know what to do with what he’s feeling, so he’s an ass.” She shakes her head. “You hear what I’m sayin’?”
I have no idea what she’s saying, but she’s dead-on that Kenton is an ass, so I nod my head in agreement.
“Make him grovel. Whatever you do, you make him pay for being an ass**le.”
“Got it.” I smile.
“Now, when you do forgive him”—she shocks me by grabbing my hand—“what you’re feeling right now will be worth it in the end.”
“Uh, okay,” I tell her, patting her hand.
“All right, now you just sit back and I’m going to feed you the best pancakes you’ve ever eaten in your life. Food makes everything okay.” She stands, leaving me wondering what the hell just happened.
Viv comes back a few minutes later with a plate overflowing with pancakes, bacon, and eggs. She sets the plate in front of me before taking a seat across from me again.
“So I take it you’re new around these parts?”
“I just moved here,” I tell her, my mouth watering from the smell coming from the plate.
“Did you move here to be with the ass?”
I can’t help but smile at her name for Kenton. “Um…no, and we’re not together. I mean, we have never been together.”
“Whatever—tomato, tomatoes.” She waves her hand at me, and I can’t help but smile at the way she messed up the saying. “You got family ’round here?” she asks, sitting forward in the booth like my answer is really important.
“No.” I shake my head, taking a bite of bacon.
“Well, you need to come over and have dinner sometime. My ass makes a mean brisket.” She smiles, watching me take another bite. “Good, right?” she prompts.
“Very.” I nod, covering my mouth.
“You should come over next Sunday. We close the diner early that day and have a big Sunday meal with all the fixings. My daughter and my niece are a little younger than you, but I would guess my nephew is about your age, though he doesn’t always show up. I’m sure the girls would like to show you around. One sure way to get your man to mind is to find another man to show him you can have someone else if you want to,” she rambles, and I can feel my eyes growing in size, so I cut her off.
“That’s very nice, but—”
“No buts. Dinner’s at three. We eat early. I’ll give you my address. I expect to see you there,” she says, standing up, and before I can come up with a good reason not to have Sunday dinner with her, her ‘ass,’ and their families, she disappears behind the counter and starts taking care of other customers.
I sit there for another hour, eating and reading on my phone. When Viv comes back, she gives me her address, cell phone number, and a very sweet hug. I leave the diner, get in my car, and head back to Kenton’s. This time when I get there, his car is gone, and I breathe out a sigh of relief that I don’t have to face him for a while.
*
I wake up to the sound of pounding and the doorbell going off. I roll and look at the clock on my bedside table, seeing that it’s after three in the morning. “What the hell?” I mumble sitting up. My brain is still asleep as I stumble through my bedroom door and down the stairs. When I reach the front door, I look out the peephole and see a beautiful woman with dark hair and sun-kissed skin standing outside.
“I know you’re in there! Open up!” she yells.
I turn off the alarm and open the door, leaving the night latch in place as I peek out the crack. “Can I help you?”
“Can you help me?” She waves her arms around. “Can you help me? Yes, bitch, you can help me by telling me what you’re doing in my man’s house,” she says, pushing on the door, the lock keeping her out.
“Your man?” I repeat, putting my weight against the door.
“Yes, my man.” She shoves the door a little harder and I’m surprised when I hear the sound of wood cracking.
“Look, if you’re Kenton’s girlfriend, then you need to call him. He’s not home,” I tell her, not liking the way my chest feels as the word ‘girlfriend’ leaves my mouth.
“I know he’s not home,” she says, pressing on the door again.
“You should call him or come see him tomorrow when he is here,” I suggest, trying to be reasonable.
“Let me inside.” She takes her shoulder and slams it into the door.
She is really crazy. What the hell?
She stumbles back and then runs at the door again like some kind of football player. This time, the door crashes open. I fall on my ass and she flies into the house, falling onto the floor.
“Are you f**king insane?!” I ask her, standing and feeling a bruise forming on my hip. I look at the lock on the door, seeing it swinging on the doorjamb.