Huston’s Restaurant is located on the east end of town, not far from the highway. A steely sky spits snow pellets as I park the scooter bike in a space that’s out of sight from the street. The restaurant is housed in an old Victorian home in a neighborhood that was once residential but rezoned for commercial businesses. The interior is warm and dark and smells of fried fish and onions. Lots of wood. Rustic fixtures. Windows covered with wooden shutters that let in little in the way of light. I walk directly to the counter where a young man of about twenty stands at the cash register looking bored. He doesn’t greet me.

“I’d like a cheeseburger to go,” I tell him.

He looks me up and down, taking in my dress, and smirks. “Would you like a buggy with that?” He barks out a laugh. More laughter comes from the kitchen behind him. “I mean, a drink?”

Rolling my eyes, I dig a few bills from my pocket and set them on the counter. “Just the burger.”

He makes change and then turns his back to me. I watch as he passes my order form through the window to the kitchen in the rear.

“Is Marie around?” I ask.

“Marie?” He looks at me a bit more closely, as if wondering why I’d want to speak with her. “I think she’s on break. Out back.”

Nodding, I head for the door.

I find her behind the restaurant, using the wood fencing surrounding the Dumpster to protect her from the wind. She’s bundled in a black puffy coat, a fuzzy scarf pulled over her kapp, smoking a cigarette.

“Marie?” I call out as I approach.

She turns. In the light from the street lamp, I see eyes laced with attitude just south of bad. Freckled nose and full lips the color of watermelon. At the moment those lips are twisted into a sour expression that’s part annoyance, part looking-for-a-fight and I might just do.

“I’m Kate. We met at worship.” I stop a few feet from her, aware that she’s annoyed by my presence.

“I remember. What do you want?”

I smile, more amused than irritated by her rudeness. “I was getting some dinner and saw you out here smoking. I thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing.”

“As you can see . .” She makes a sweeping gesture from herself to the restaurant. “I’m meeting all the right people and making all the right connections.”

“Hey, it’s a job. More than what some people have.” Reaching into my coat, I pull out a five dollar bill and offer it to her. “Can I bum a smoke?”