Read The Surrogate, The Sudarium Trilogy - Book one for Free Online
Authors: Leonard Foglia, David Richards
house ten minutes ago just to make sure you remembered you were on tonight. Your aunt said you’d been out all day. Sooooooooo, what’s up?”
“Nothing’s up. I went to Boston to do some shopping, that’s all.”
The older waitress’s eyebrows shot up. “Boston, eh? I thought it was just a few errands. You’re a terrible liar, Hannah Manning. Come on, you can tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell, trust me.”
“Okay, okay. Have it your way. I have only two questions then.”
“What?”
“Do I know him, and Is he married?” Teri let out such a whoop that Bobby stuck his face out of the kitchen to see what the commotion was about. The fresh apron he’d changed into for the evening shift only made his short-sleeved t-shirt appear all the dingier. “There you are,” he grunted at Hannah. “About time. I was beginning to think I was going to have to spend the whole night all alone with this one.”
“You wouldn’t know what to do, if you had to spend a night all alone with me, lover boy.”
“For starters, I’d hose you down and put a bag over your head.”
“You’d have to. I’d die laughing otherwise.” Already, the two of them were off and running, Teri thought to herself, as she headed for the storeroom, where she kept a spare uniform in the rusty locker that stood in the far corner. Behind the stacked cartons of canned stringed beans and applesauce, she slipped out of her dress and wondered if Teri really believed she was seeing a man. If so, it was only because Teri’s mind naturally gravitated in that direction. In her view, behind every door, under every bed, at the center of every secret day dream lurked a handsome stud in form-fitting jeans.
Hannah knotted the frilly brown apron behind her back and was glad to see, when she returned to the diner, that business had picked up. It was like that sometimes. Nobody for an hour, then all of a sudden the place was hopping. That meant that Teri wouldn’t hound her any more about the afternoon’s activities. She was a good soul and meant no harm, but she didn’t always know when to stop. Like her banter with Bobby.
Before long, Hannah was caught up in the bustle, predictable and oddly reassuring. Two meat loaf specials, heavy on the gravy, for the truckers in the side booth. Fried chicken - “ breasts , not drumsticks, please” - for Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley, the elderly retired couple who ordered fried chicken every time and never failed to add the qualifying instructions. Customers called out loudly for a cup of coffee or a refill or a check. Hannah welcomed the activity, which made the time pass faster.
Teri brushed by her, going the other way, laden down with a platter of double-decker burgers and fried onion rings. “I don’t know about you,” she managed to mutter, “but these tootsies of mine are screaming for a week on the beach at Lauderdale. Maybe the three of us can go - you, me and your mystery man.”
It wasn’t until 9:03 by the “Time for a Bud” clock over the door that the first lull set in. The next wave would come in another forty-five minutes or so when the shows at the Cineplex let out. Hannah heard her name being called and scanned the remaining diners, lingering over dirty dishes, to see where it was coming from. Bobby was standing by the cash register, jiggling the telephone receiver in the air.
“For you,” he shouted.
Hannah wiped her hands on her apron and took the receiver from him.
“Is this Hannah Manning?”
“Yes.”
“This is Mrs. Greene from Partners in Parenthood. Am I calling at a bad time?”
“Oh, no. Business has slowed down for a while.”
“Good. Because I wanted to tell you it was terrific meeting you today.”
“It was very nice meeting you, too, Mrs. Greene.”
“Well, I just think you are a very special young lady. The sort of woman we welcome with open arms at Partners in Parenthood.”
Hannah felt a surge of relief wash over her. “I’m so glad. I mean, I didn’t
“Nothing’s up. I went to Boston to do some shopping, that’s all.”
The older waitress’s eyebrows shot up. “Boston, eh? I thought it was just a few errands. You’re a terrible liar, Hannah Manning. Come on, you can tell me.”
“There’s nothing to tell, trust me.”
“Okay, okay. Have it your way. I have only two questions then.”
“What?”
“Do I know him, and Is he married?” Teri let out such a whoop that Bobby stuck his face out of the kitchen to see what the commotion was about. The fresh apron he’d changed into for the evening shift only made his short-sleeved t-shirt appear all the dingier. “There you are,” he grunted at Hannah. “About time. I was beginning to think I was going to have to spend the whole night all alone with this one.”
“You wouldn’t know what to do, if you had to spend a night all alone with me, lover boy.”
“For starters, I’d hose you down and put a bag over your head.”
“You’d have to. I’d die laughing otherwise.” Already, the two of them were off and running, Teri thought to herself, as she headed for the storeroom, where she kept a spare uniform in the rusty locker that stood in the far corner. Behind the stacked cartons of canned stringed beans and applesauce, she slipped out of her dress and wondered if Teri really believed she was seeing a man. If so, it was only because Teri’s mind naturally gravitated in that direction. In her view, behind every door, under every bed, at the center of every secret day dream lurked a handsome stud in form-fitting jeans.
Hannah knotted the frilly brown apron behind her back and was glad to see, when she returned to the diner, that business had picked up. It was like that sometimes. Nobody for an hour, then all of a sudden the place was hopping. That meant that Teri wouldn’t hound her any more about the afternoon’s activities. She was a good soul and meant no harm, but she didn’t always know when to stop. Like her banter with Bobby.
Before long, Hannah was caught up in the bustle, predictable and oddly reassuring. Two meat loaf specials, heavy on the gravy, for the truckers in the side booth. Fried chicken - “ breasts , not drumsticks, please” - for Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley, the elderly retired couple who ordered fried chicken every time and never failed to add the qualifying instructions. Customers called out loudly for a cup of coffee or a refill or a check. Hannah welcomed the activity, which made the time pass faster.
Teri brushed by her, going the other way, laden down with a platter of double-decker burgers and fried onion rings. “I don’t know about you,” she managed to mutter, “but these tootsies of mine are screaming for a week on the beach at Lauderdale. Maybe the three of us can go - you, me and your mystery man.”
It wasn’t until 9:03 by the “Time for a Bud” clock over the door that the first lull set in. The next wave would come in another forty-five minutes or so when the shows at the Cineplex let out. Hannah heard her name being called and scanned the remaining diners, lingering over dirty dishes, to see where it was coming from. Bobby was standing by the cash register, jiggling the telephone receiver in the air.
“For you,” he shouted.
Hannah wiped her hands on her apron and took the receiver from him.
“Is this Hannah Manning?”
“Yes.”
“This is Mrs. Greene from Partners in Parenthood. Am I calling at a bad time?”
“Oh, no. Business has slowed down for a while.”
“Good. Because I wanted to tell you it was terrific meeting you today.”
“It was very nice meeting you, too, Mrs. Greene.”
“Well, I just think you are a very special young lady. The sort of woman we welcome with open arms at Partners in Parenthood.”
Hannah felt a surge of relief wash over her. “I’m so glad. I mean, I didn’t