“They’re just for show. Pretty cool, though.” Kathryn waved her arms at another throwback. This time it was Rosie, granddaughter of the original, decked out in a pink-striped uniform with a white collar and trim, a white apron, and a peaked cap, complete with the ugliest white shoes.

“Kathryn! Babe! How the heck are you?” Rosie sauntered over and gave Kathryn a bear hug. “Who is this pretty thing?” She pointed at Yoko.

“A good friend. Yoko, meet Rosie.”

Rosie’s hands were as large as Kathryn’s, and she almost crushed Yoko’s fine fingers with her grip. Yoko tried to hide a wince. “Nice to meet you. Kathryn tells me you have the best food in Michigan.”

“She’s got that right. Come sit over here, away from the cigarette smoke.”

“Isn’t that illegal?” Yoko asked innocently. Kathryn kicked her in the foot.

“Nobody cares around these here parts. I only let my regulars do it. There’s only a couple of ’em left,” Rosie explained. “We ain’t that far from Flint. Now there’s a problem that needs fixin’.” She handed them plastic-coated menus that had seen better days. “Meat loaf is fresh this morning. Take a few minutes. Coffee? Tea? Soda?”

Thinking about the water problem in Flint, Yoko opted for something that came in a bottle. “Coke? Pepsi?”

“Pepsi, dollface. Kath? You?”

“Coffee. Thanks.”

Rosie waddled across the room, weaving in and out of the square Formica tables, which had also seen better days.

“It’s kind of depressing, isn’t it?” Yoko whispered.

“I prefer to think it’s quaint. But you’re right. Business has fallen off a cliff. It’s amazing she’s still here. But she owns the building, so that’s one bill she doesn’t have to pay.” Kathryn scanned the room. “I’m going for the meat loaf. Mashed potatoes. Gravy.”

Yoko looked at the menu. Not exactly what she was used to, especially when she was at Pinewood, with Charles’s fine cooking. Kathryn sensed Yoko’s apprehension.

“Bacon and eggs. Always a safe bet.”

“Nah. I’ll have what you’re having.” Yoko smiled when Rosie returned to the table with their beverages and took their order.

When the food arrived, it looked exactly like the picture on the menu. “Rosie’s specialty.” Rosie pointed to the food. “Enjoy!”

The women dived into the comfort food, which, Yoko noted, was really, really good.

“See! I told ya,” Kathryn boomed. “Let’s hit the ladies’ room and get going.”

Kathryn motioned for the check, pulled out her cash, and left a hundred-dollar bill under the saltshaker. “Come on. I don’t want Rosie yelling at me. She hates it when I overtip!” They made a beeline for the bathroom, washed up, and bolted.