Searching for Sea Glass: BEST-SELLING AUTHOR (Sea Glass Secrets Book 1) by Teal Wingate Page B
Authors: Teal Wingate
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helped Billy up into the bus.
“What is tonight?” the driver asked.
“It’s Cowboy Poet and Gumbo Night,” Sunny answered as she made sure Billy was settled.
Maxine shook her head. “Sounds too redneck for me. What’s tomorrow night?”
“Max, it’s not redneck at all. Some of the poetry is pretty good.”
“It’s old, fat white guys in cowboy hats and boots, it’s redneck Sunny. I like that every night is something different over at your place. But Cowboy poetry is not for me. What’s tomorrow?” She looked out over the narrow two lane road before she pulled the bus away from the curb.
“It’s Jukebox Jubilee and Shrimp Creole.”
“You still got the good stuff on that old jukebox you had Trey haul from that junk shop over in Pensacola?”
“I sure do. I probably won’t ever change the music because those 45s are hard to come by.”
“Good, ‘cause honey, that’s my kind of groove. Nothing beats Otis Redding and Sam Cooke.”
“I’ll save you a spot by the jukebox. Bring plenty of quarters.”
“I will. I might even bring my old man with me. He can still dance, when he sets his mind to it.”
“I’d like to see that,” Sunny said with a smile. Maxine and her husband were a fixture at Sea Glass Café.
“Well, it’s a sight to behold, for sure. That man got hips like a snake. He can sure shake his…” She stopped when she saw Billy’s big round eyes fixed on her. “That is to say, he can dance real, real good.”
Sunny’s laughed. “Yeah, I bet he can. You bring him in tomorrow night and the first quarter set is on me.”
“Three songs for a quarter. Times have sure changed.”
“I guess they have,” Sunny said.
The bus pulled up to the base of the bridge that went over the Pass. She and Billy got out. They waved back at Maxine before starting down the gravel drive that led to the Sea Glass Café. The breakfast crowd had thinned. And it was too early for lunch. The parking lot was almost empty.
Sunny gazed at her business with a sense of justifiable pride. She’d built it up from a dirty hole-in-the-wall with a questionable clientele to a clean family place. The outside was painted turquoise. A big hand-painted sign showed the name, Sea Glass Café , in bright island colors. Savory aromas drifted down the drive to the pair. The spicy sting of Cajun seafood and the smell of onions frying combined. Sunny helped Billy navigate the wood stairs and get up onto the wide porch that ran across the front of the small building.
She stood there a minute. She shaded her eyes and looked over at the new extended space. She’d added a deck on the Pass side of the café. Folks seemed to love sitting out there at the sherbet-painted picnic tables to eat and watch the sun set over the water. The deck had doubled the café’s seating. She’d had to mortgage the business, but it’d been worth it. The patio was already paying for itself.
“Hey boss,” a young woman with a wide blue streak in her blonde hair called from the picnic tables. She wore rubber boots and held a running hose in her hands. She was cleaning up after the breakfast crowd. Families with little kids tended to be messy. And the fishermen who’d been out all night in the Gulf weren’t known for their pristine table manners.
“Thanks Trinity,” Sunny yelled back. “I was going to do that when I got back.”
“It’s no problem. Harry’s getting the inside set up. I bet we have a huge crowd for lunch.”
“Yeah, I love a holiday weekend.”
“Me too, boss. The tips are always outrageous. If we could just keep Sheriff Dunn from showing up and killing the mood, we’d do Ok.”
Sunny said nothing in response. She just smiled again and waved. She suspected there was a lot more to Trinity’s animosity towards Trey than simple dislike. Sparks flew every time the two were within spitting distance of each other. She wished he would realize what a great woman Trinity was. If he did, surely he’d finally give
“What is tonight?” the driver asked.
“It’s Cowboy Poet and Gumbo Night,” Sunny answered as she made sure Billy was settled.
Maxine shook her head. “Sounds too redneck for me. What’s tomorrow night?”
“Max, it’s not redneck at all. Some of the poetry is pretty good.”
“It’s old, fat white guys in cowboy hats and boots, it’s redneck Sunny. I like that every night is something different over at your place. But Cowboy poetry is not for me. What’s tomorrow?” She looked out over the narrow two lane road before she pulled the bus away from the curb.
“It’s Jukebox Jubilee and Shrimp Creole.”
“You still got the good stuff on that old jukebox you had Trey haul from that junk shop over in Pensacola?”
“I sure do. I probably won’t ever change the music because those 45s are hard to come by.”
“Good, ‘cause honey, that’s my kind of groove. Nothing beats Otis Redding and Sam Cooke.”
“I’ll save you a spot by the jukebox. Bring plenty of quarters.”
“I will. I might even bring my old man with me. He can still dance, when he sets his mind to it.”
“I’d like to see that,” Sunny said with a smile. Maxine and her husband were a fixture at Sea Glass Café.
“Well, it’s a sight to behold, for sure. That man got hips like a snake. He can sure shake his…” She stopped when she saw Billy’s big round eyes fixed on her. “That is to say, he can dance real, real good.”
Sunny’s laughed. “Yeah, I bet he can. You bring him in tomorrow night and the first quarter set is on me.”
“Three songs for a quarter. Times have sure changed.”
“I guess they have,” Sunny said.
The bus pulled up to the base of the bridge that went over the Pass. She and Billy got out. They waved back at Maxine before starting down the gravel drive that led to the Sea Glass Café. The breakfast crowd had thinned. And it was too early for lunch. The parking lot was almost empty.
Sunny gazed at her business with a sense of justifiable pride. She’d built it up from a dirty hole-in-the-wall with a questionable clientele to a clean family place. The outside was painted turquoise. A big hand-painted sign showed the name, Sea Glass Café , in bright island colors. Savory aromas drifted down the drive to the pair. The spicy sting of Cajun seafood and the smell of onions frying combined. Sunny helped Billy navigate the wood stairs and get up onto the wide porch that ran across the front of the small building.
She stood there a minute. She shaded her eyes and looked over at the new extended space. She’d added a deck on the Pass side of the café. Folks seemed to love sitting out there at the sherbet-painted picnic tables to eat and watch the sun set over the water. The deck had doubled the café’s seating. She’d had to mortgage the business, but it’d been worth it. The patio was already paying for itself.
“Hey boss,” a young woman with a wide blue streak in her blonde hair called from the picnic tables. She wore rubber boots and held a running hose in her hands. She was cleaning up after the breakfast crowd. Families with little kids tended to be messy. And the fishermen who’d been out all night in the Gulf weren’t known for their pristine table manners.
“Thanks Trinity,” Sunny yelled back. “I was going to do that when I got back.”
“It’s no problem. Harry’s getting the inside set up. I bet we have a huge crowd for lunch.”
“Yeah, I love a holiday weekend.”
“Me too, boss. The tips are always outrageous. If we could just keep Sheriff Dunn from showing up and killing the mood, we’d do Ok.”
Sunny said nothing in response. She just smiled again and waved. She suspected there was a lot more to Trinity’s animosity towards Trey than simple dislike. Sparks flew every time the two were within spitting distance of each other. She wished he would realize what a great woman Trinity was. If he did, surely he’d finally give
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