“I’m sure you took up a collection,” Tabby snaps.
She still hasn’t gotten over Betty Pepper ratting her out for skinny-dipping in the Holiday Inn pool last year with Mayor Rhodes’s out of town nephew. It was a pretty tame stunt for Tabs… until we found out the kid was only seventeen.
In my friend’s defense, the boy had a tattoo, rode a Harley, and we all thought he was at least nineteen.
BP digs in her wallet and shows us a few twenties. “This is all I’ve got.”
“Make it a hundred and fifty, then,” I sigh.
“You can write a check,” Tabby adds, irritation in her tone.
The old lady is huffy, but she pulls out her checkbook and starts to write. I lift the foil-covered cardboard tray and place it in a waiting gift box on the opposite counter. Her next words stop my breath.
“Bucky can’t wait until your date next Friday.”
Tabby gives me a horrified, I smell sour-milk face, and I cringe. “Whaaat is this about?” she asks.
“Emberly is such a dear.” Betty pats my forearm. “Bucky said after that brat Cheryl Ann dumped him last week, you talked to him for an hour at the Tuna Tiki.”
“How could you stand it?” my roommate says. “And what were you doing at Tuna Tiki?”
“I wanted sushi,” I say.
Betty pushes on undeterred. “Then she agreed to have dinner with him.”
“You did not!” Tabby grabs my arm.
“It wasn’t… quite like that.” I step away, untying my apron and wiping my hands with it.
“He said you were. Are you not going to dinner with Bucky on Friday?” Betty cries.
“No. You are not going to dinner with Bucky on Friday,” Tabby says.
“Why would you say something like that, Tabitha? Just because my Bucky isn’t some pot-smoking, Harley Davidson riding—”
“I’ll have you know, Betty Pepper, I’ve only dated three guys who smoked pot—”
“You know what?” I shout before those two start throwing punches. “It’s just dinner. I’m glad to do it if it helps Bucky get over Cheryl… or whatever.”
“You are not glad to do it. Bucky Pepper is a—Ouch!”
I release her flesh from my sly pinch and pull the pin out of my dark hair, letting it fall down my back. “Thank you so much, Miss Betty.”
“It’s too bad you won’t be joining us for cake.” The old lady prances to the door, and I lean against the counter. The bell tinkles, and she’s gone.
Tabby turns, arms crossed to glare at me. “What. The fuck. Bucky Pepper smells like formaldehyde!”
“He’s a taxidermist.”
“He’s the shape of a coke bottle, and he’ll probably give you a stuffed squirrel!”
I can’t help a laugh. “It’s better than herpes.”
“Jesus, don’t even joke about sleeping with him.” Tabby does a full-body shiver. “His breath is like… like…”
I think a minute then it hits me. “Deviled eggs.” Nodding, I collect my ingredients and carry them to the shelves, where I arrange them neatly in order. “I just realized it smells like deviled eggs.”
“Good lord, Ember.” My friend lowers her gaze. “I cannot in good faith let you go out with that… that…”