Emerald Flight: Wildest Dreams (continued)

“I guess your mother never taught you not to play with your food?”

Scott started, managing to fumble the packet of crackers so that they made a perfect landing into his soup.

He looked up to find the young woman smiling and laughing quietly. Finding no malice in the sparkle in her eyes, Scott relaxed.

“She did, actually,” he responded quietly.

His eyes left hers, but stayed focused on her face. She seemed to study him for a moment, as if really seeing him for the first time. They remained that way for several long moments before she looked down toward the table.

“Are you done with that?”

“It was really good,” Scott offered with sincere enthusiasm. “The best I think I’ve ever had.”

The young woman smiled. “You don’t have to go overboard,” she laughed. “It’s not as though I made it.”

Scott grinned. “It was still good.”

“I’ll bet you’d have said the same thing about the clam chowder.”

“No,” Scott replied seriously, but still managed a light smile. “I’m actually not a big fan of clam chowder.”

“Uh huh.”

“Really,” he protested mildly.

It was true. He was not particularly fond of thick, creamy soups—particularly since that incident with stomach flu during his early teens.

“If you say so,” she responded, clearly teasing him now.

She picked up the bowl and spoon and started to carry them away. Scott had actually wanted to finish it, but then realized that they might be the last two dirty dishes left in the place and he was keeping them from finishing up and going home. Scott sat and waited, anticipating that she would be returning with the check at any moment.

At least I remembered to bring my wallet.

His fingers played with the remaining packet of crackers.

What am I going to do about the car? I guess I can have them tow it home if they can’t get it started and we can deal with it tomorrow. With my luck, Scott mused sourly, Thad will go out in the morning and the damned thing will start right up for him.

The young waitress returned and placed a check down the table near him. Before Scott could look at it, a bright light was reflected through the restaurant’s front windows.

“It looks like your ride’s here,” the young woman said, nodding toward the window.

Scott looked toward the window and blinked. He caught see two bright headlights and the dark silhouette of something that could have been a tow truck.

When he turned back, the girl was gone.

He looked down at the table to read the amount of the check. Instead, he found this message scrawled in large curved letters:

NO CHARGE.

THANKS AND COME AGAIN.

- J

Next to the “J”, in approximately the same size, was drawn a smiley face.

Scott shook his head slowly, genuinely amused. He reached into his wallet and placed a five-dollar bill on top of the check.

She certainly deserves at least that much.

He looked around the restaurant, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Probably cleaning up and getting ready to leave.

Feeling a definite sense of disappointment, Scott rose and headed out the door, walking quickly before the driver decided that he was in the wrong place and took off without helping him.

As Scott made his way back across the parking lot, he kept turning to cast quick glances back at the restaurant to see whether he could catch another glimpse of the young woman.