Read Online Femme by marshall thornton - Free Book Online Page B

added up to eighty. Plus the three or four dollars for my coffee. And, of course, a generous tip. That put me at roughly a hundred dollars. I had fifty-six in my pocket. So, I had to find someone to borrow fifty dollars from. I’d be a hundred dollars short for my rent, but I could deal with that problem later.
    Of course, the whole situation wasn’t improved by the fact that I may or may not even have a job. No, I had a job. It was Tuesday, after all. Chuckie Cooper had had two days to get me fired. If he were going to do it, it would have happened already. Plus Bob liked me. He wasn’t going to fire me. No matter how important Chuckie Cooper thought he was. Everything was going to be fine. I just needed to beg someone for a shift or two in order to make my rent. I might be able to pick something up in the dining room. Hell, I’d bus tables if they’d let me.
    Still, I didn’t get on the phone to call around for the money I needed. I decided to give Dog a few more minutes to come back. With a really good explanation. A really amazing explanation. Like the most amazing explanation anyone had ever given to anything.
    Suddenly, I had the eerie feeling I’d seen this movie before. My life had turned into some kind of cable channel thriller about a woman whose date vanishes and then when she tries to find him no one remembers seeing him. Like he never existed. Is she crazy? Or is she trapped in the middle of a conspiracy?
    Trevin was back with my coffee. He set it down in front of me. Next to the coffee he set down a square plate with a creamer and bowl of sugar.
    “First date?” he asked. Okay, so Trevin remembered Dog. Which meant I wasn’t in a thriller. No, I was in some stupid sitcom where the main character is constantly humiliated.
    “Yeah. First and last.”
    “I have to say, I have seen this happen before. Though I’ve never seen it happen to anyone as cute as you.”
    “Oh, thanks,” I said, smiling weakly. Being a waiter myself, I knew not to trust the flirtation. In all likelihood he was working me for a better tip. That’s what I would do. I mean, it’s almost rude not to flirt with customers.
    Trevin winked and walked away.
    Sipping my coffee, I tried to think what would make a good excuse for Dog’s disappearance. Looking on the bright side, he might have gotten really sick. Too sick to actually say he was sick. Hell, he could be sitting in his truck, dead. I was almost certain I could forgive him if he died. I tried to think of other situations I would find forgivable. I supposed if aliens had shone an invisible tractor beam on him and pulled him out of the restaurant as a prelude to abducting him, that would be forgivable. What else? Early onset dementia; if he suddenly forgot who I was, or better yet, who he was. Well, that would be forgivable, too. Other than those three not-very-possible possibilities I didn’t think there was any good reason to do what he’d done.
    I decided it was time to bite the bullet and call Carlos to see if there was any remote possibility he could bring me fifty dollars and then drive me home so I could replace his fifty with fifty from the Häagen-Dazs container in my freezer that was not a Häagen-Dazs container but was actually my checking account.
    Oh Gawd , I thought, What a disaster!
    Just then Trevin came over and leaned over discretely. “Your friend just called. He paid the check over the phone.”
    “Did he? So he’s definitely not coming back?” I’d already figured that out, but pretending surprise was not a bad idea.
    “Apparently not.”
    “Could you box that up?” I asked, pointing at Dog’s dinner. There was no reason to let good food go to waste. “And then, could you bring me everything on the dessert menu?”
    “Everything?”
    “You still have his credit card number, don’t you?”
    “Yes, I do. How about an aperitif?”
    “How about two?”
     
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    My sister, her husband, Arthur, and their two toddlers live in a