The Gardens of Digby Green: Interruptions
Ray looked up from the glossy photo menu.
“What can I get you to drink?” The middle-aged waitress in the aisle had her pad and pencil ready.
Ray was also ready. “I’ll have a lemonade, and the pot roast bowl, please.” This chain served decent food, but experience with it at home didn’t lead him to expect quick service.
She nodded and scribbled. “I’ll be right back.”
At the far end of the room, Digby was drumming his fingers on the table top. He shifted on the bench, and fidgeted with the position of his baseball cap.
Ray leaned against the back of his booth, and stretched his legs out under the table. His waitress could be slow as a tortoise. Digby would have to pass him to leave.
Instead, she was brisk, returning in fewer than ten minutes with his lemonade and dinner. Ray nodded his thanks. The steaming meal was good, but the lemonade was sweeter than he liked. When his waitress returned to question him during his second fork full of beef, Ray asked for iced water.
A young male waiter ambled to Digby’s booth. Good. Ray wouldn’t have to bolt his dinner.
Half way through his entree, as the waitress paused at Ray’s booth to ask whether he wanted a lemonade refill, Digby left his full soda on the table and walked out.
Was the man changing his mind? Leaving without ordering food? Ray leaned back, trying to see past the waitress’s elbow. He scowled.
“Would you like some dessert?”
Ray blinked. The waitress shifted a half step, giving him a glimpse of the door. Green was dropping coins into a newspaper box outside.
“Sir, would you like some dessert?” Her pencil was poised.
Green entered, carrying a newspaper, and Ray exhaled. “I’ll have a banana split, with extra caramel, no maraschino cherries.”
#
The guy waiting tables in this joint was slower than a snapping turtle in January. Digby dropped back into his booth at the window, and lifted his newspaper. The banner headline, Police Capture Suspect After Highway Chase, made his stomach tense. Squinting, he rubbed his eyes. Too much driving today.
A Motel 6 sign glowed through the restaurant window. Digby shifted on the bench and checked his wallet. That motel chain cost more than the places he preferred, but this once, yeah, he could do that.
The Gardens of Digby Green: Interruptions is an installment of a short story which posts on Fridays. You can find the first part and read from the beginning, here.
Find a link to purchase the Heartland Treasures anthology here.
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