whispered seductively. It had to be Jo’s voice. Who else could it belong to?
“I’ll see you back here around three, then?”
She nodded, and he left her to the empty house and her now wooden strawberries.
“Thank you so much for meeting me today.” Tori had pulled into the parking lot of the little Italian restaurant just as Holly had gotten out of her car.
“I’m just glad it’s not raining,” Holly said as they walked toward the building in the chilly air. A handpainted sign read, “Tish’s Kitchen.” The sky had gone a watery blue with tinges of gray.
“It seemed like a good omen to me. Geena has to teach today and I was too depressed to think clearly. I was really glad to have something to look forward to. Otherwise I’d be in my pajamas eating ice cream right now, and probably watching reruns of The Avengers.”
“Doesn’t that sound decadent? Perhaps I shall try that on Monday.” Clay would disapprove. Screw Clay, she thought abruptly. Jo could not even begin to know the damage she had wrought, and Holly would never tell her. She did not want to seem like a weathervane, blowing whichever way anyone’s advice pushed her. She could think for herself. She ignored the “hah!” that seemed to come from deep inside her.
Solve for the simplest answer, she told herself. This… unsettled feeling it was not Jo’s fault.
“Fortunately, this place is full of comfort food. I’ve known the owner for years.” Tori pushed the heavy door open and led the way inside.
“I’ve probably driven by here a million times, but I never noticed it,” Holly observed. Tish’s was homey and cheerful, with an open fire separating the bar from the small dining room. They chose a booth where they could see the fire. Muted Italian ballads added to the relaxing ambiance.
“Comfort food” was an understatement, Holly realized as she perused the menu. “Gnocchi in an alfredo sauce,” she pointed out to Tori. “Could anything be more comforting?”
“And more deadly to the arteries? I’ll split it with you,” she added with a laugh.
“That’s a deal. Can we also split the spinach salad?”
“Sounds great. A little virtue, a little sin, it all makes life worth living. You’re a vegetarian, aren’t you?”
“Most of the time,” Holly said. “Political and health reasons. My formative years were spent in a home where beef was the nightly entree, and I occasionally lapse. Shows what my willpower is worth.”
“Life’s too short for every bit of food we eat to be viewed as some sort of medicine. I eat salmon because I love it, not for the supposed cancer-fighting fish oil. Sometimes, a salmon is just a salmon. With herbed butter.”
Holly laughed. “And wrapped in puff pastry?”
“There ya go. Now you’re talking.” Tori was grinning. She turned her wide smile to the woman who approached their table with notebook in hand. “Hey, Tish. What’s shaking?”
Tish slid into the booth next to Tori with a sigh. “Both busboys called in sick plus one server and Friday afternoons are my busiest time of the whole week. TGIE I’ll age a year before midnight.” Tish looked to be in her mid-forties, and her thick black hair was streaked with silver.
“I’m unemployed. I could clear tables for you.”
“Unemployed? When the hell did that happen?”
“Yesterday. I ran smack into a homophobe with the authority to fire my queer little ass.”
“That sucks. You going to sue?”
“I don’t know. I’ll probably never get satisfaction. Geena was reading up on it last night, and unless I can show some sort of pattern on this guy’s part I don’t have much more than he said/she said.”
“You’ve got me,” Holly interjected. “Though I suppose he could just claim I misunderstood.”
“This is Holly,” Tori said to Tish. “She’s straight, but she quit in protest. Isn’t that amazing?”
“You did a good thing,” Tish said to Holly.
Unused to her sexuality being in question,
“I’ll see you back here around three, then?”
She nodded, and he left her to the empty house and her now wooden strawberries.
“Thank you so much for meeting me today.” Tori had pulled into the parking lot of the little Italian restaurant just as Holly had gotten out of her car.
“I’m just glad it’s not raining,” Holly said as they walked toward the building in the chilly air. A handpainted sign read, “Tish’s Kitchen.” The sky had gone a watery blue with tinges of gray.
“It seemed like a good omen to me. Geena has to teach today and I was too depressed to think clearly. I was really glad to have something to look forward to. Otherwise I’d be in my pajamas eating ice cream right now, and probably watching reruns of The Avengers.”
“Doesn’t that sound decadent? Perhaps I shall try that on Monday.” Clay would disapprove. Screw Clay, she thought abruptly. Jo could not even begin to know the damage she had wrought, and Holly would never tell her. She did not want to seem like a weathervane, blowing whichever way anyone’s advice pushed her. She could think for herself. She ignored the “hah!” that seemed to come from deep inside her.
Solve for the simplest answer, she told herself. This… unsettled feeling it was not Jo’s fault.
“Fortunately, this place is full of comfort food. I’ve known the owner for years.” Tori pushed the heavy door open and led the way inside.
“I’ve probably driven by here a million times, but I never noticed it,” Holly observed. Tish’s was homey and cheerful, with an open fire separating the bar from the small dining room. They chose a booth where they could see the fire. Muted Italian ballads added to the relaxing ambiance.
“Comfort food” was an understatement, Holly realized as she perused the menu. “Gnocchi in an alfredo sauce,” she pointed out to Tori. “Could anything be more comforting?”
“And more deadly to the arteries? I’ll split it with you,” she added with a laugh.
“That’s a deal. Can we also split the spinach salad?”
“Sounds great. A little virtue, a little sin, it all makes life worth living. You’re a vegetarian, aren’t you?”
“Most of the time,” Holly said. “Political and health reasons. My formative years were spent in a home where beef was the nightly entree, and I occasionally lapse. Shows what my willpower is worth.”
“Life’s too short for every bit of food we eat to be viewed as some sort of medicine. I eat salmon because I love it, not for the supposed cancer-fighting fish oil. Sometimes, a salmon is just a salmon. With herbed butter.”
Holly laughed. “And wrapped in puff pastry?”
“There ya go. Now you’re talking.” Tori was grinning. She turned her wide smile to the woman who approached their table with notebook in hand. “Hey, Tish. What’s shaking?”
Tish slid into the booth next to Tori with a sigh. “Both busboys called in sick plus one server and Friday afternoons are my busiest time of the whole week. TGIE I’ll age a year before midnight.” Tish looked to be in her mid-forties, and her thick black hair was streaked with silver.
“I’m unemployed. I could clear tables for you.”
“Unemployed? When the hell did that happen?”
“Yesterday. I ran smack into a homophobe with the authority to fire my queer little ass.”
“That sucks. You going to sue?”
“I don’t know. I’ll probably never get satisfaction. Geena was reading up on it last night, and unless I can show some sort of pattern on this guy’s part I don’t have much more than he said/she said.”
“You’ve got me,” Holly interjected. “Though I suppose he could just claim I misunderstood.”
“This is Holly,” Tori said to Tish. “She’s straight, but she quit in protest. Isn’t that amazing?”
“You did a good thing,” Tish said to Holly.
Unused to her sexuality being in question,
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