Snuffed Out - Tim Myers [60]
“Wow, this is too much,” I said. “Is this for me?”
Millie nodded happily. “I found this set at a yard sale, if you can believe it. Lovely, isn’t it?”
“It’s great,” I said. “But there’s only one place setting. I figured you’d be joining me.”
“No time for that, I’m pretty busy.” She lowered her voice and admitted, “Besides, I have just the one setting. That’s why it was so cheap.”
I sat down and Millie went in back for a minute. Though my first customer of the day had left my shop a couple of hours before, she must have lingered around River’s Edge. She walked into The Crocked Pot, looked around and saw me sitting at the table, elegantly outfitted for a formal meal.
“Don’t tell me,” she said, “You do this every lunchtime.”
I smiled. “Just every fifth Friday.” It was the middle of the month, and decidedly not a Friday.
She shook her head and said, “I suppose you have to get here early to understand things. Kindergarten is probably a good time.”
“Don’t bet on it. I’ve lived around here all my life, and there are still some things I don’t understand. That’s what makes it so much fun.”
Millie came out from the back, set a stainless steel covered tray in front of me and turned to the woman. “May I help you?”
“I don’t have time for formal tea, or whatever is you’re doing. Can I grab a cup of coffee to go?”
Millie looked puzzled by the exchange. “Of course you can.” She wagged a finger at me. “Harrison, have you been telling stories again?”
“No, ma’am. But then how can you believe me? I might be lying right now,” I added with a grin.
She shook her head and fixed the woman a coffee. After she paid, I heard her mumbling as she walked out. I didn’t catch all of it, but it was something like, ‘they’re all mad as hatters’ as she left. I held it in till she was gone, then laughed aloud.
As Millie approached my table with a covered plate, she said, “I don’t even want to know.”
I grabbed the lid and said, “May I?”
“It won’t do you much good if you don’t,” she said.
I lifted the lid and found a slab of pot roast surrounded by golden braised carrots, red new potatoes, and silver onions. The smell alone was nearly enough to fill me up, it was so rich. “How did you know pot roast was my favorite?”
Millie smiled. “Believe it or not, your Great-Aunt told me.”
“Belle talked about me?” I asked, suddenly forgetting all about the food, as wonderful as it smelled. I’d been more off than on with my Great-Aunt in the years before she died, and I just assumed it had been “out of sight, out of mind” between us.
“Belle and I spoke of a great many things, Harrison. It’s only natural that her only kin would come up in the conversation now and then. She said you couldn’t get enough pot roast growing up, that you’d turn down cherry pie for an extra slab of beef.”
“What can I say, I know what I like.” I surveyed the plate again, then said, “Honestly, you didn’t have to do this.”
“That’s what made it so much fun. Now are you going to taste it or not?”
I took a forkful, watching as the meat fell apart at my touch. Adding a bite of carrot, a sliver of onion, and a chunk of potato, I had a full fork and a perfect bite.
“Well?” she asked.
“I can’t describe it, it’s so good,” I said.
Millie smiled. “I’m glad you like it.”
As a man in a business suit came in, Millie said, “Enjoy.”
“May I help you?” she asked him.
“I was just coming in for a bagel, but I’ve changed my mind. I’ll have what he’s having. You can serve mine on a regular plate, I don’t need anything fancy.”
Millie smiled. “I’ll have it ready in a minute.”
The man loosened his tie, looked at me and said, “Is it as good as it smells?”
“Better,” I said, then took another bite. For a minute I was afraid he was going to try to steal a carrot off my plate, but Millie came back soon enough. “Would you like coffee with that?”
“You wouldn’t happen to have a tall glass of cold milk around, would you?”
“Coming right up.”
He sat across the cafe, no doubt to enjoy his own memories. I watched