See Bride Run!

by Unknown

  “If you see Kazue before I do, please tell her I said thank you.”

  Lillian smiled and nodded. “I only see one problem. How do you plan to ride a bike in your uniform?”

  Annie chuckled. “I’ve already thought of that,” she said. “I’ll wear my regular clothes and change once I get to the Dixieland Café. Speaking of which, I’d better get ready for work. I’ll put the bicycle in the trunk of Darla’s car so I can ride home afterward.”

  “You know how to get to the café, from here, right?” Lillian asked. When Annie nodded, she went on. “All the streets are lit up at night, and the sheriff and his deputies patrol the area. It’s very safe,” she added.

  “I’m not worried,” Annie said. Then she thought to herself, unless Sheriff Hester decides to arrest me.

  “And try not to be nervous on your second day on the job,” Lillian told her. “It takes time to learn. Just be yourself, and your customers will love you.”

  Annie smiled, took several steps forward, and hugged the woman. Lillian looked surprised. “What was that for?”

  “For being so good to me, that’s what.”

  #

  Annie arrived at work wearing jeans and a cotton shirt. Her uniform and panty hose were tucked in a bag. Sam, who was sitting at the counter reading the newspaper, frowned. Here, he’d made all these promises about how he wouldn’t gawk at the woman the way he had the day before, and she had to come in wearing a pair of behind-grabbing jeans that would have sent a preacher’s blood boiling. “I hope you’re not planning to wear—”

  Annie disappeared into the rest room without a word. Five minutes later she came out ready for work. Darla almost bumped into her coming through the kitchen door.

  “Well, hey there, missy. Who let the hem out of that uniform?” She winked. “How d’ya expect to make any tips in this joint?”

  Annie looked thoughtful. “I suppose I’ll have to rely on my excellent waitress skills. What do you think?”

  “No comment,” Sam said, and earned a dark look from the two of them. He stood. “I’m out of here.”

  “And not a moment too soon,” Darla muttered.

  “I heard that, Darla, and I’ll remember it when it’s time for your next raise.”

  “Raise? Did I hear someone say raise?” Darla glanced around as though trying to find the source. “I don’t think that’s a word we use very often in this place.”

  “I’d love to stay and chat,” Sam replied, “but I’ve got a man coming in who wants to divorce his wife. Says all the woman does is nag. Imagine that.”

  Darla frowned at him. “I’m no lawyer, Sam Ballard, but that is not grounds for a divorce. Women were born to bitch and moan, and the only way to put an end to it is take them to the mall.”

  “I’ll remember to advise my client of that,” he said.

  Annie, who was filling saltshakers, chuckled. “And what exactly were men put on this earth to do?” she asked.

  Sam turned to look at her, a thoughtful expression on his face. “We were put here to hunt for food, discover uncharted territories, and protect the weaker sex.”

  Darla threw a paper-towel roll, and he caught it. “Weaker sex, my foot!” she said loudly.

  “I believe that’s my cue to leave,” he said, dropping the roll onto a nearby table and hurrying out the glass door. He managed to close it behind him before another roll hit the door.

  Annie was still watching in amusement as Sam crossed the street to get to his office. She didn’t hear Darla come up beside her.

  “Well, well, we can’t seem to take our pretty green eyes off of the man, can we?”

  Annie blushed. “Nothing wrong with looking.”

  Darla nudged her. “You didn’t spend the night with Lillian. I called first thing this morning, and she said you hadn’t arrived yet.”

  The blush deepened. “It’s a long story, and this place is going to fill up with customers any moment now.”

  “I’m not budging from this spot till I know, girlfriend.”

  “I stayed at Sam’s.”

  “Aha!”

  “His housekeeper was there. It was perfectly innocent.”

  “If you say so.”

  “The man doesn’t even like me, for Pete’s sake.”

  “Which explains why he can’t take his eyes off of you.”

  “He watches me because he’s afraid I’m going to break every plate in the house,” Annie protested. She was thankful when three men walked through the door. Darla didn’t make a move to go to them. “Are you going to wait on them or am I supposed to?” Annie asked.

  “Why don’t we take stations? I’ll work the counter and booths, and you grab the tables. Then, tomorrow, we’ll switch.”

  Annie grabbed three menus and hurried to the table. The restaurant filled up in no time, and although Annie stayed busy, it wasn’t as hectic as the day before when she’d been the only waitress. Of course, Sam had helped, but it was much better having another waitress on the floor, even if it meant giving up a substantial amount of tips.

  Once the rush ended, Darla and Annie ordered a sandwich and ate in the kitchen, taking care to listen for the bell over the front door.

  “Did you tell Darla that Patricia and I saved her job yesterday?” Flo asked Annie.

  Annie shook her head. She didn’t particularly want to get involved in any more disputes. Unfortunately, Patricia didn’t have that problem. She gave Darla a blow-by-blow account of what had occurred in her absence.

  Darla looked genuinely touched. “Gee, I appreciate you guys sticking up for me like that. Sam can be such a pain sometimes. I don’t think he’d really fire me, although he has threatened to a number of times.”

  “That’s never going to happen,” Annie said. “He’s too smart for that.”

  “You should’a seen the way he was following prissy britches yesterday,” Flo said, motioning to Annie. “Not only that, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Guess he liked that short uniform she had on.”

  “He was afraid to take his eyes off of me,” Annie said, “for fear I would break every dish he had. I think I may have come close.”

  “Had nothing to do with broken dishes,” Flo insisted. “It was that short skirt.”

  “You never should’ve let the hem out of it,” Darla told Annie. “Sam Ballard is considered the most eligible bachelor in Pinckney, Georgia.”

  “I don’t think Sam has marriage on his mind,” Annie said.

  “You’re probably right,” Darla said. “The only thing he’s interested in from a woman is a little action.”

  They all laughed. Flo choked on a biscuit, and Patricia came close to performing the Heimlich on her. They managed to pull themselves together for about thirty seconds, then, fell into another fit of laughter.

  “Excuse me, ladies,” a male voice said. Sam Ballard was standing at the pickup window wearing a frown. The women had been laughing so hard, they hadn’t heard the bell over the door announcing an arrival. “There’s a customer out front who would like pie and coffee.”

  “Oh, Lord!” Darla said, getting up right away. She hurried through the swinging door leading from the kitchen to the dining room.

  “That man takes life too seriously,” Patricia said as Annie cleaned the remnants of hers and Darla’s lunch. “He needs to lighten up.”

  When Annie returned to the dining area, she found Sam sitting at the counter discussing business with the customer who’d wanted the pie and coffee. He was going to town on a slice of pecan, even as his gaze flitted to Darla every few seconds.

  Darla smiled at Annie in such a way that Annie knew something was up, she just didn’t know what. She wet a cloth and began wiping off the stools at the counter. Sam and the man finished their business and shook hands. Sam looked at Darla. “How ‘bout giving Tom a coffee refill,” he said.

  Darla smiled. “My pleasure.” She reached for the pot.

  “That was the best pecan pie I’ve had in a long time,” Tom told Darla. �
��Tastes just like what my mother used to bake.”

  “Why, thank you, Tom,” Darla replied in a syrupy voice. “I baked it myself.”

  “No kidding?”

  Darla fluttered her lashes. “I bake all the pies here.”

  Annie turned her head so the customer would not see her smile.

  “Wow,” Tom said. He looked at Sam. “You’ve got yourself a helluva waitress here.”

  Sam nodded. “Yes. They threw away the mold when they made Darla.”

  “I’ll bet you bake those biscuits too,” Tom said, leaning his elbows on the counter.

  “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  Sam nudged Annie. “This is when Darla does her best work,” he whispered. “You might want to take notes.”

  The corners of Annie’s mouth twitched. “Even as she watched Darla, she could not help noticing how nice Sam smelled. His aftershave had a light musky scent that made her want to get closer.

  “Note the body language,” he said. “She’s leaning slightly forward, chest thrown out, one hip thrust to the side. If I tried that; I’d end up in traction.”

  Annie giggled in spite of herself. Darla’s eyes drifted toward them. She gave one wink and went back to her business.

  “Note her tongue sliding in and out,” Sam went on, “flitting across her full bottom lip. Keeping it moist,” he added. “You know what the poor guy is thinking.”

  “She’s quite good,” Annie said.

  “Also, she touches his hand from time to time as if to emphasize something she is telling him. The poor guy doesn’t stand a chance.”

  “But what about Bo?” Annie asked.

  “This is business,” Sam says. “It has nothing to do with Bo.”

  “Aha, he’s reaching into his shirt pocket for his business card. Asking Darla to call him sometime,” Sam added. “And now the grand finale. He’s going for his wallet . . . he’s taking out a bill. I’ll bet you fifty cents it’s a ten spot.”

  “I don’t know,” Annie said. “That’s a pretty big tip for pie and coffee. I’m thinking more like five.”

  Darla took the money, gave Tom a huge smile, and tucked it in her apron pocket. The man almost tripped over his own feet as he made his way out the door.

  Sam and Annie waited for Darla to say something, but she did not look their way. She cleared Tom’s dishes and wiped the counter, all the while humming a tune. Flo and Patricia watched from the ticket window.

  “Okay, Darla,” Sam said, “what’d he leave you?”

  Darla looked offended. “A waitress never discusses her tips.”

  “Annie and I have money riding on it.”

  “So do me and Patricia,” Flo said. “And neither of us appreciates you telling him you make the biscuits around here. You don’t even know how to make canned biscuits.”

  Darla gave them a coy smile. “I’ll give you a hint. We would not have the light bulb if it weren’t for this man.”

  Sam sighed heavily. “Thomas Edison invented the light bulb, Darla. He’s not pictured on any currency.”

  Darla shrugged. “That’s correct, Sam, but Thomas Edison would never have been able to invent the light bulb had this particular gentleman not discovered electricity with his kite-flying experiment.”

  Sam and Annie looked at each other, stunned. “Benjamin Franklin!” Sam whispered. “That’s a hundred bucks!”

  “I want to take waitress lessons from Darla,” Annie said. She walked away, swinging her hips from side-to-side as she’d seen Darla do; only she gave an exaggerated effort.

  Flo and Patricia whistled and clapped, Darla offered her a high-five. Sam swallowed hard. It was going to be a long shift.

  Chapter Seven

  It was shortly before eight o’clock when Darla told Annie she could leave early. Business had been so slow that Annie had already cleaned her station, wiped down the booths and tables, filled the condiments, as well as the salt and pepper shakers, and cleaned the laminated menus with vinegar and water.

  “There’s no need for both of us to stay,” Darla said. “Weren’t you planning to pick up a few things at the grocery store?”

  “Yes,” Annie said, “but I’m in no rush. Besides, I’m sure Bo would love it if you came home early.”

  “He’s having dinner at his mama’s tonight,” Darla said. “He’ll be by for dessert later so I won’t be alone since I told Sam I would close tonight. Go on and take care of your errands while it’s still early.”

  “That’s sweet of you,” Annie said, “but you have to promise to let me stay one night so you can leave early.”

  “Okay, deal.”

  Annie clocked out, changed into her jeans, and was on her way a few minutes later after pulling her bike from the trunk of Darla’s car.

  As Lillian had told her, most of the streets were lit up with old-fashioned lampposts, which made it easy for Annie to find her way, and the fact that Lillian’s house was only ten minutes from the restaurant was an added convenience. But instead of pulling into the driveway at Lillian’s, Annie passed it and headed in the direction of the grocery store. She was thankful Kazue’s bicycle had a basket on the front; it would certainly make grocery runs easier.

  #

  Sam quickly closed his office and climbed into his Jeep as soon as he saw Annie leave the restaurant on a bicycle. He knew he had no business following her home. For one thing, she was an adult, perfectly capable of finding her way. Secondly, she was taking a safe route. She would not be traveling down back roads or dark alleys, and only a complete imbecile would accost her right on Main Street, one of the most heavily patrolled areas in town.

  So why the hell was he following her?

  Not that he wasn’t enjoying the view. Each time she rose slightly off her seat to pedal harder, he caught sight of her perfect behind. He was tempted to get closer but didn’t for fear of being discovered. Finally, disgusted with himself for what he was doing, he slowed and turned on his blinker. He needed to go home and stop thinking about Annie Hartford. But just before he was to turn, he saw her pass Lillian Calhoun’s house. He frowned. Where was she going? Had she accidentally missed her turn? He could not imagine anyone getting lost in Pinckney, but Annie’s mind was probably running in a dozen different directions. He turned off his blinker and drove on.

  Annie pulled into the parking lot of the Piggly Wiggly supermarket some minutes later and attached the bike to a metal bicycle stand using a rubber-coated cable and combination lock that Kazue had provided. She went inside the store, grabbed a shopping cart, and immediately forgot about the limited space in the bike’s basket. Upon checking out, she discovered she had purchased more than she’d planned.

  Of course, the basket was larger than most and would hold a lot. She would just have to stack ‘em high and ride back to the garage apartment slowly.

  From across the parking lot, Sam watched Annie come out of the store with a loaded cart. He frowned. Now, how the hell did she expect to get all those bags into the basket on that bike? He sighed. Women did the damnedest things sometimes.

  Annie positioned her cart beside the bike, opened the lock, then straddled the bike and began loading the sacks into the basket. By the time she put the fourth bag in, she was having serious doubts as to whether she’d be able to get home with them. What had she been thinking?

  Annie mentally crossed her fingers for good luck and began to pedal. She could feel every heavy item she’d purchased—the half gallon of milk, a box of laundry detergent, two whole frying chickens because they’d been on sale, not to mention the large pack of hamburger meat that she planned to divide and wrap for the freezer.

  And a whole lot more.

  She struggled to keep the bike upright, but it wasn’t easy considering she was on a hill. No wonder the trip to the store had been so easy. She vaguely remembered coasting down the incline. The front of the bike had a tendency to pull left. She decided she must’ve put most of the heavier items on that side.

  She didn’t hear t
he pickup truck come up behind her, but when her bike drifted toward the center of the road, the driver laid on his horn, scaring her half to death. The front wheel veered far left, and Annie tried to right it, but she overcorrected and lost control. The bicycle went down; she and her groceries along with it. She winced as her right knee and elbow scraped asphalt, then, she skidded down the hill some twenty feet before coming to a stop. Her right ankle yowled. Annie did not know if she had twisted it or broken the darn thing; pain was pain. When she glanced up, she found a mess; cans rolling down the hill, eggs broken with the yellow oozing from the carton. A can of soda pop spewed in her face.

  Suddenly a car screeched to a halt on the road above her, and she prayed it wasn’t a cold-blooded killer because there was no way she could run. The next thing she knew, Sam Ballard was standing over her, holding a flashlight.

  He shook his head sadly. “I’ll be generous and give you an eight-point-five on that fall.”

  Annie blinked back tears of frustration and embarrassment. “Very funny, Sam,” she said. He got down on his haunches, and even though she was hurting, Annie had to admit he had very nice haunches.

  “Hey, are you okay?” he asked, his voice genuinely concerned.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  Sam tried to avoid an outright lie. “I saw you come out of the Piggly Wiggly with enough groceries for a family of four. I was afraid you were going to have trouble getting back to your apartment.”

  “You were spying on me,” she said.

  “I prefer to use the word observing. Are you hurt?” he asked. “Do I need to take you to the ER?”

  “I think I sprained my ankle, but I don’t need to go to the hospital,” she said. “I’ve got a couple of scrapes, nothing life-threatening.”

  “I’ll help you to my car, then, I’ll try to chase down your groceries.”

  “All of my plastic bags are torn.”

  “I’ve got bags in my backseat that I’ve been meaning to return to the Piggly Wiggly’s recycling can. “Okay, let’s get you vertical.” Using great care, he pulled her to a standing position, but the minute Annie put weight on her right foot, she gave a yelp, threw her arms around him and shifted her weight onto her left foot.