One thing was certain. CW didn't like change. He'd never been the same since his grandmother passed. Fell in with the wrong crowd. It was all haze back then, and guess who was left holding the bag?
CW was not a very good criminal. He had no talent for shoplifting and was definitely not charming enough to talk his way out of anything. He might as well have been Shrek. Naturally, his life was spent watching old TV shows and playing DOOM. No, he didn't get to play all the video games the cool kids did. He watched it on YouTube when he could.
Then, when Gran passed, he was left with an uncle who sold the house and lived at the lake in an RV. CW guessed they were too much alike. The living conditions were just horrible, and then he met slick Cooter, who knew Jules, whose girlfriend was Julie. CW thought they might start a rock band, but Cooter had his mind on other things. He said it would be a lot like Grand Theft Auto. Naturally, CW thought he meant the video game.
He shook his head at the thought. Here he was in this old town trying to build his life skills. He knew his days were numbered in this temporary job in spite of worshiping the ground Chili walked on (she was, after all, the essence of his dream girl..if only in video games). He lived in a room upstairs. Probably the best home he'd ever had. And he just couldn't get used to it because he knew he'd be all on his own sooner or later.
Yeah, he was a little shit who was overgrown now. He just was not likable, and he didn't even try anymore.
Of course, the moment he saw that old broad in the shop, he yelled to Millie, "Who in the hell is that!" He pointed as if she had no business bringing in anybody. He pounded the skillet like thunder and burned his finger.
"Fuck!" He tried to keep his voice on mute, but he couldn't cause his finger raged in pain, and it would have to be the middle one.
Before he knew that old broad was taking care of his finger with ointment and a bandaid. He pouted. Yes, he was certain this was the end. His backpack was already packed.
"What do you want?" He winced.
"What do you want?" She asked back.
"Why can't you fuck'n people go away?" He hissed.
"And you could take care of everything, could you?" Her comeback left him with nothing but a swelled frown. He waltzed back to the orders as if he would just go on. But he was in a fret, and he just couldn't get into the rhythm of getting everything ready like clockwork. Millie had messed him up. He just didn't like her type. They were too pretty to begin with. But this old chick. Well...he sighed. She was something like Gran. Not quite as old, but she had a certain sassy.
He raised his right hand to his left shoulder. It was tender. He'd been using his left hand to hold the pan too much. Bacon and sausage were still sizzling on the griddle, and a pancake was going to burn any second, but she turned it and put the pieces of bacon on the platter along with the hot pancakes.
"Order up!" She yelled.
Millie went to serve it to some old dude sitting at the counter, nursing his black coffee. Millie handed him a saucer with a cinnamon roll from the bakery and apologized for the wait.
"Look, you get the patties started and I'll get the rest of the breakfast done,"
CW nodded. He liked that she treated him as an equal. He did take great care of the burgers. After the breakfast dishes were out, she went to check on the mashed potatoes and roast. The specials were easy to put together. But CW hated making salads the most, and he could see she enjoyed putting a garden salad together.
They kept the dance of the kitchen going for another two hours or so. They didn't get a chance to eat anything until almost three. They sat at the back booth. Just the two of them. She ate what was left of the meatloaf, and he had his favorite, a cheeseburger and fries. It wasn't until then that he realized she was Millie's mother, but of course, he wanted to know, "Will you be back tomorrow?"
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