PublicBookshelf Book Club
Wayne Allen McClain
Weekly tips on great novels to read.
Wytheville, Virginia Ronda Sandler lightly tapped a greasy fork against her water glass where she sat on a swivel stool at the counter of a roadside diner. John had gone outside to use the payphone and call into work.
"Can I get you some apple pie?" the perky blonde waitress asked from across the counter.
"No, I don't think so. We have to be going soon." She smiled to lessen the impact of her words. "But it sounds good."
"It is. We make it fresh everyday," she said proudly. She slipped the order pad under her belt and cocked her head to the side. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," Ronda said as she looked at the other woman expectantly.
"Where are you guys from?"
The waitress laughed. "Everybody just blows right on through this town. Nothing here to stay for." She leaned against the counter and folded her arms, as if prepared to stay a while.
Ronda did not really mind. She was ready to converse with anybody but John. "I wouldn't have guessed. It's a beautiful town. First time I've ever been here."
"You and your husband on a trip or something?"
Ronda laughed. "He's not my husband. We're just friends. Although, after last night I might rethink even that."
"Really." The waitress looked genuinely concerned.
"I'm just kidding. We are great friends. He's a sweetheart. But last night we camped in Waynesboro, because it was too foggy to go on. I hate camping."