“Oh yes,” Emily said. “She sprung this on me, the least she can do is cover some of the food bill.” The Boss didn’t look too pleased, but Teddy didn’t mind.

“Then let’s go home,” Teddy said. “I need to make a big poop to make room for all that food.”

For some reason, the Boss sighed real hard.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Nom Nom de Guerre

Emily hadn’t spent all that much time in Eauclaire before. Oh, sure, it was only an hour’s drive from her hometown, and it was one of the closer cities, but they had everything they needed in town.

The only reason to come to Eauclaire was to visit some of the more niche shops, or to visit the college. There was a decent hospital, too. She might have been born there, maybe. She would need to ask her mother to confirm that.

The point was, Emily didn’t know the city enough to be able to pinpoint all the nicer restaurants and other places like that. So she was a little surprised when she followed the address Melanie had given her all the way to a strange building set on the corner of a street just a couple of blocks away from the shopping district.

This was on the western side of Eauclaire, where the more affluent houses were, and the nicer neighborhoods.

Maybe that’s why the restaurant was so fancy . . . and yet strange.

The Railroad was a two-story building, made of red brick, with some nice landscaping around its entrance. That much was perfectly ordinary. The large train engine sticking out of the front wasn’t ordinary in the least though.

It was a big red steam engine, situated as if the restaurant had grown around it.

“Cool,” Teddy said.

“Is that normal?” Athena asked.

Emily shook her head. “It isn’t,” she said. “I’m kind of surprised I never heard of it.”

She started toward the front door, tugging her sisters along with her. All three of them were plainly dressed, though Athena’s outfit made her seem a bit more formal, or like someone trying really hard to look like a businesswoman.

They were greeted at the door by a pimple-faced teen in a butler’s outfit. “Hello,” he said in a voice straining not to crack. “Do you have a reservation?”

“Um,” Emily said over the clink of cutlery. “Maybe? Under ‘Melanie’?”

“Family name?” he asked with the tone of someone trying hard to be taken seriously.

“I don’t know?” Emily said.

He looked at her, then back down. “Well, there is a Melanie,” he said.

“Ah, um, does she have black hair and, uh, a loud voice?”

He nodded reluctantly. “Let me ask the lady. What are your names?”

“Emily,” she said.