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“Crap. Sorry, sorry. I’m just really excited you’re home, and like, there’s so much you’ve missed…” Riley trailed off, lowering herself back into her seat. “Sorry. Just excited,” she repeated with a mumble.
Charlotte laughed. “You’re fine.” It had been too long since she experienced Hurricane Riley—as Aiden so affectionately called her—in person.
A server approached, her black hair twisted into a French knot with a big pink flower on the side that matched her flamingo pink petticoat. She wore Hollywood glam makeup that made her appear younger, but Charlotte suspected she was closer to her ma’s age. “Hey there, hon. I’m Jessica. Will you be having something too?”
“What’s good now?” Charlotte asked, looking at the others.
“Layla and I got chicken fingers and waffle fries,” Blaire said.
“Cheese fries and milkshake,” Riley added. Her lips twisted, and she turned to the server. “Actually, can I get another shake? Dreamy Creamy this time.”
“Yep.” Jessica scribbled a note on her notepad.
Charlotte looked up at her. “Do you have honey mustard?”
“Sure do. The creamy kind, not that tangy stuff.”
“I’ll get the chicken fingers too, then. Can I get cheese on waffle fries?”
“Don’t see why not. Just like putting it on the regular ones. Potato’s a potato, darlin’.”
“Okay, that. Oh, and maybe a soda? Whatever you have. Pepsi or Coke.”
“Want a filler?”
She blinked. “A what?”
Jessica gave her a patient smile. “We have a bar with all sorts of goodies you can add to your drink. Lemons, limes, syrup shots like strawberry, cherry, caramel…” She tapped her blood-red lips with the end of her pen as she mulled over the options.
“Do you have cherries?”
“Yep. I usually put a shot of cherry syrup with a handful of maraschino cherries in my soda. Want something like that?”
“Yes, please. If that’s okay.”
“Sure it is. I’ll get that right out to you.”
When the server turned away and went to put in the order, Layla muttered, “I like the tangy honey mustard.”
Riley and Blaire chuckled.
Charlotte preferred the creamy stuff. It wasn’t as strong of a mustard flavor and tasted sweeter, but she wouldn’t tell Layla that. Instead, she asked, “What’s a Dreamy Creamy?” It sounded like a candy popsicle, but she didn’t know how they turned it into a milkshake.
“Creamsicle ice cream turned into a milkshake. It is so good. It’s new on the menu. I mean, they revamped the whole thing when the last owners bought the place, but they added this a few weeks ago,” Riley said, once again rambling, her volume rising with her excitement.
The mention of Creamsicle made her mood sour. It sucked to wake up that morning to her pillows not bearing the scent of the creamy orange dessert.
“What’s wrong?”
She looked up at Riley. “Hm?”
“You look sad.”
“I’m good.”
Hoping to distract Riley, she looked at Layla. “I’m back because I don’t like my major. I don’t know what I want to do, but staying up there is too hard. I want to be with my family.”
She left it simple. Explaining it a dozen times was getting old.
