the air. There was also a tantalizing hint of bacon sizzling on the grill.
“Cam. Cam Fawst.” A petite but very pregnant blond in a waitress uniform was moving his way, smiling at him. She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place her. “How are you doing?” The girl oozed enthusiasm and perkiness. “It’s so good to see you. It’s been forever.”
Where was Sal? Who was this chick? This whole thing was taking way too long. It was what you get for trying to do something nice. Still, Cam smiled, unleashing the easy, masculine charm that was his social face. “Honey, could you go back to the kitchen and grab Gene for me?”
“You don’t recognize me, do you? I’m Hannah. Remember?” She smiled suggestively and the flash of dimples, the greenish eyes, and the honey blond hair took Cam back to his sixteenth birthday, his sophomore year of high school.
“Hannah. Of course. I remember. The rocket pops.” He grinned roguishly. “I remember quite a lot.” She had been his birthday present. He had a mental image of a lithe Hannah stripped down to nothing but a pink thong with a bow tied right over the sweet curve of her bottom. After that night, he had called her up, even seen her a couple of times. Then, he’d moved on. She hadn’t gotten the message. She’d kept following him around with those sad, puppy dog eyes. That had gotten old real quick. Vaguely, he recalled seeing her with some corn fed farm boy after that.
“Looks like you’ve been keeping busy since graduation,” he said, glancing at her belly.
“Luke and I got married right after graduation,” she said, her face beaming. “This’ll be our second baby. We already have a year-old girl. Caty’s her name. You remember Luke, right?”
Cam had a mental image of a beefy blond guy. “Lineman?”
“Yes. He’ll be so pleased that you remember him.” She smiled again, seemingly content to chat the morning away.
“Could I get you to grab Gene for me, Hannah? I’m in kind of a rush.”
“Oh sure. I’m sorry.”
“It was good catching up,” he lied glibly. He heard a familiar male voice rumbling somewhere in back. “Gene? Gene? Come on out here,” he called out impatiently. You’d think the guy was performing brain surgery back there.
“Cool your jets. I’m coming.” Gene, the proprietor of the diner, appeared. He was thin, wiry and weathered as always and carrying an overflowing plate of scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, and hash browns. He placed the plate before a down-on-his-luck-looking fellow who sat up at the lunch counter.
“Here you go, Mike. Just the way you like it.”
Gene moved out from around the counter and offered Cam his hand and a big grin. “Cam, I didn’t know it was you out here. It’s been quite a while. I hear you’ve been doing real good down in Milwaukee.”
Cam leaned closer to Gene. “You should check if that guy can pay you before you feed him,” he whispered to Gene.
“Nope, none of that for me, boy,” Gene chuckled. “I believe that the good Lord intended for folks to look after each other.”
“Whatever works for you, man. Anyway, I stopped by to drop this off for Sal,” Cam handed Gene a bag. “Could you give it to him, and tell him that I had to get back early this morning?”
“He’ll be disappointed that he didn’t get to see you in the flesh. Feels like a football. Can I take a look?”
Cam nodded.
“Let’s see. My, it’s an autographed Coyote football. Sal will be thrilled to get a hold of this!”
“Just paying back an old debt. My mom finally told me that you and Sal paid my football registration until I got into high school. You guys didn’t have to do that.”
A blush bloomed in Gene’s leathery cheeks. “You weren’t supposed to find out. It wasn’t a big deal or anything. You were a kid who deserved to play ball.”
“Well, it meant a lot to me. Thank you.”
“You made my day, Cam,” Gene commented as he admired the ball.
“Yeah, well, I
“Cam. Cam Fawst.” A petite but very pregnant blond in a waitress uniform was moving his way, smiling at him. She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place her. “How are you doing?” The girl oozed enthusiasm and perkiness. “It’s so good to see you. It’s been forever.”
Where was Sal? Who was this chick? This whole thing was taking way too long. It was what you get for trying to do something nice. Still, Cam smiled, unleashing the easy, masculine charm that was his social face. “Honey, could you go back to the kitchen and grab Gene for me?”
“You don’t recognize me, do you? I’m Hannah. Remember?” She smiled suggestively and the flash of dimples, the greenish eyes, and the honey blond hair took Cam back to his sixteenth birthday, his sophomore year of high school.
“Hannah. Of course. I remember. The rocket pops.” He grinned roguishly. “I remember quite a lot.” She had been his birthday present. He had a mental image of a lithe Hannah stripped down to nothing but a pink thong with a bow tied right over the sweet curve of her bottom. After that night, he had called her up, even seen her a couple of times. Then, he’d moved on. She hadn’t gotten the message. She’d kept following him around with those sad, puppy dog eyes. That had gotten old real quick. Vaguely, he recalled seeing her with some corn fed farm boy after that.
“Looks like you’ve been keeping busy since graduation,” he said, glancing at her belly.
“Luke and I got married right after graduation,” she said, her face beaming. “This’ll be our second baby. We already have a year-old girl. Caty’s her name. You remember Luke, right?”
Cam had a mental image of a beefy blond guy. “Lineman?”
“Yes. He’ll be so pleased that you remember him.” She smiled again, seemingly content to chat the morning away.
“Could I get you to grab Gene for me, Hannah? I’m in kind of a rush.”
“Oh sure. I’m sorry.”
“It was good catching up,” he lied glibly. He heard a familiar male voice rumbling somewhere in back. “Gene? Gene? Come on out here,” he called out impatiently. You’d think the guy was performing brain surgery back there.
“Cool your jets. I’m coming.” Gene, the proprietor of the diner, appeared. He was thin, wiry and weathered as always and carrying an overflowing plate of scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, and hash browns. He placed the plate before a down-on-his-luck-looking fellow who sat up at the lunch counter.
“Here you go, Mike. Just the way you like it.”
Gene moved out from around the counter and offered Cam his hand and a big grin. “Cam, I didn’t know it was you out here. It’s been quite a while. I hear you’ve been doing real good down in Milwaukee.”
Cam leaned closer to Gene. “You should check if that guy can pay you before you feed him,” he whispered to Gene.
“Nope, none of that for me, boy,” Gene chuckled. “I believe that the good Lord intended for folks to look after each other.”
“Whatever works for you, man. Anyway, I stopped by to drop this off for Sal,” Cam handed Gene a bag. “Could you give it to him, and tell him that I had to get back early this morning?”
“He’ll be disappointed that he didn’t get to see you in the flesh. Feels like a football. Can I take a look?”
Cam nodded.
“Let’s see. My, it’s an autographed Coyote football. Sal will be thrilled to get a hold of this!”
“Just paying back an old debt. My mom finally told me that you and Sal paid my football registration until I got into high school. You guys didn’t have to do that.”
A blush bloomed in Gene’s leathery cheeks. “You weren’t supposed to find out. It wasn’t a big deal or anything. You were a kid who deserved to play ball.”
“Well, it meant a lot to me. Thank you.”
“You made my day, Cam,” Gene commented as he admired the ball.
“Yeah, well, I
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