A Little Like Fate (Robin and Tyler 1)

“My name is Elizabeth and I’d love to help you with anything you need today, okay?” our waitress says as she places the menus in front of us. Mine has as sticky goo on the corner. “Today’s special is chicken fried steak, but y’all might want breakfast since it’s past midnight, which you can find on the front of the menu.”

I order a coffee and Miranda orders a Diet Coke. I’m halfway positive that I’ve read in magazines before that caffeine is bad for pregnant women, but I’m not about to say that in front of our waitress and embarrass my niece.

“So where are y’all from?” Elizabeth asks when she brings our drinks, her welcoming smile revealing crooked teeth.

“Houston.” I skim over the menu, but I’ve pretty much settled on the chicken fried steak. I don’t care what time of day it is. You can’t go wrong with chicken fried steak, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve eaten anything that’s fried.

“Wow, that’s a ways off.” She clicks her pen open and closed, open and closed as she talks to us. “What are ya doing way out here?”

“Oh you know,” Miranda cuts in. “Impromptu road trip. Aunt Robin here lost her mind.” She motions to me and then twirls her finger around her temple in the universal sign for lunatic. “I thought I’d just tag along.”

Elizabeth nervously bites her lip, unsure if she should laugh or console me. Unfortunately, I don’t know that answer either.

“I’ll have the chicken fried steak,” I say.

“Me too,” Miranda echoes. “And can you change the mashed potatoes for cheese fries? And maybe add some hash browns, plus, like two pancakes?”

I laugh into my hand as Elizabeth’s eyes go wide as she writes down Miranda’s laundry list of an order and leaves our table as fast as she can. I don’t blame her. I kind of don’t want to be around me either.

The food is delicious and I’m envious of Miranda’s cheese fries. She finishes every bite of food on her plate and then starts leeching off of mine. I let her because I’m not that hungry. There’s a hole in my chest right now, not in my stomach. We stay until two in the morning, when a group of rowdy twenty-one year old guys barge in, having just celebrated someone’s birthday by drinking a little too much.

As I’m paying for our meal, it dawns on me that I have no idea where we are going after this. We still have a few hours until dawn but I could probably drive for a few more hours before I pass out at the wheel. But, do I want to keep driving? Not really. Miranda taps her fingers on the glass window in front of the diner, her eyes far away. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but it can’t be anything pleasant.

“Are there any hotels around here?” I ask Elizabeth as she swipes my debit card through their ancient machine. She’s also watching Miranda’s expression with

a pained one of her own. I wonder what she thinks we’re doing out here, away from home and looking like something the cat dragged in.

“We have a B&B just down the road about a mile and a half away,” she says, taking a cell phone out of her back pocket. “Just a sec, I’ll get you a room.”

Miranda and I exchange glances as Elizabeth calls someone named Shelly and tells her she’s sending over two guests. She snaps her phone closed and gives us that warm welcoming smile again. “Gotcha all set up,” she says. “You’ll get a discount since I referred you.”

I thank her and turn to go, only to be stopped with a loud yelp from Miranda. The door to the diner slams open, knocking Miranda in the face and silencing her scream as a man in an undershirt and sweatpants storms inside. Miranda drops to the floor holding her hands up to her face. Yelling and chaos erupts all around me as I fall to my knees to check on her. She writhes in pain as blood drips out of her nose.

Of all the voices going on around me, the only one I recognize is Elizabeth’s. She’s saying the name Will and the word no over and over again, her voice growing more desperate by the second. When I’m positive that Miranda will be okay despite what’s probably a broken nose, I rock back on my knees and try to figure out what’s happening.

Undershirt guy, Will I guess is his name, is going on some kind of roid-rage rampage right in the middle of the diner and Elizabeth is his target.

“I give you everything!” he yells, jabbing his finger on her chest. “Everything!”

“I know, baby,” she pleads with him, making an attempt to grab his arm but he shakes her away. She grabs for him again. “Baby let’s talk about this at home, okay? I’m about to leave.”

“Where is he?” Will looks around, knocking chairs out of his way, even bending to look under a table. Miranda lets out a whimper and I turn my attention back to her. She reaches for me with one hand while the other one cups her nose. Blood drips from under her fingertips. I take her hand and help her pull up on her feet.

Elizabeth and Will are still arguing, and I’m looking around for a paper towel or something to help Miranda. I can’t believe no one tries to help us. So much for southern fucking hospitality.

Miranda chokes back tears, her breathing coming in a huff now. I look her in the eyes. “We need to get you to a hospital.”

“Like fuck we do,” Miranda snaps. With one arm, she pushes me out of her way and walks right up to the roid-rage guy as if he’s not screaming and not two hundred pounds heavier than her.

“You better fucking apologize!” The shrillness in her voice sends chills down my arms. Will’s features flicker with what might actually be fear but it only lasts for a Nano second. The very next second he shrugs a hand toward my niece. “Go away, girl. This isn’t about you.”

Miranda straightens to her full height. Blood drips down her nose and over her lips. “You broke my nose, you piece of shit. I can have you arrested.”

“Yeah?” He drops his hold on Elizabeth’s arm. “Who is this?”

“They’re just passing through,” Elizabeth says, giving us a weak version of her charming smile. Her features don’t look as beautiful right now. “Y’all should go,” she says, her eyes pleading with me.

“Miranda, drop it,” I say, trying to gain control of the situation. Sure, I feel sorry for Elizabeth, but this is her problem. I can’t beat up this guy and my cell phone has no signal out here, so short of MacGyver-ing some way to take him down with laminated menus and kid’s meal crayons, I’m useless. “Let’s go.”