Ted Hill - Sudden Independents

“What’s on the menu tonight, Brittany?” Samuel asked.

“Chef Brittany has acquired a large amount of catfish, thanks to Dylan and the boys. They were up all night and in their words, ‘they killed.’ Our side dishes will be mashed potatoes and eggplant, thanks to you guys.”

“Don’t thank me for the eggplant,” Samuel said, discreetly pointing in Jimmy’s direction.

“I saw that,” Jimmy said.

“Excuse me.” Brittany scurried back to her post.

“Why do they wait for her to seat them?” Samuel said. “It’s not like they’re going to sit somewhere different.”

Jimmy glanced up front at the impatient cluster of boys and girls; some with freshly washed hands and others with permanent stains. “The younger kids switch it up a lot. They’re still working out their friendships.”

“Hey, I can take a hint. You’re welcome to move if you need to branch out.”

“You’re so sensitive.” Jimmy stood up. “Anyways, I’m done making friends. I got a town full of them.” He slid out the wooden chair beside him for the very pregnant young woman waddling his way. “Good evening, Vanessa. How are you holding up?”

“I’m just fine for a walking balloon. I’m ready to pop and get this experience over.” Vanessa maneuvered into the chair and thanked Brittany for her wrapped napkin.

“Can I get you anything else?” Brittany asked Vanessa. Everyone in town was overly helpful ever since Vanessa started to show. Jimmy smiled at the elected mother of their community, voted in by a silent majority.

“I’m all right, sweetie. You better get back up there before they start to riot.”

The mob at the door was spilling over trying to get out of the sun. Brittany dashed away.

Vanessa separated her napkin from the utensils and wiped the sweat from her face. “How hot is it going to get this summer?” She waved toward her boyfriend, Mark, as he entered the room. “I can’t believe how much I sweat.”

“The temperature has been climbing a lot higher lately,” Jimmy said. “Maybe we should bring one of the generators to the school so you can run a fan or a window unit.”

Mark eased into the chair on the opposite side of Vanessa. “I already tried that once,” he said. “She wouldn’t allow it.”

“We don’t need to waste our resources on my comforts,” Vanessa said. “Besides, the heat is keeping me in shape.”

“And what shape would that be?” Samuel asked.

“Bite me, Sammy.”

A thin boy joined their group, collapsing on the empty seat next to Samuel and dropping a thick book and black leather bag underneath his chair.

“Hey, Luis, do you know what to do yet?” Samuel asked.

Luis started to speak, but croaked instead. He grabbed his water glass and gulped the contents. “I think so,” he finally answered. “It’ll be my first delivery.”

“Hopefully not the last.” Samuel nudged Luis in the ribs. “Does that big medical book have any pictures?”

“Mark, we might have to move,” Vanessa said.

“Why’s that, honey?”

“Because I’m about to throw my fork at Sammy’s head and see if it sticks.”

“That’s cool,” Samuel said. “I think Jimmy wants to move to another table, too. I don’t mind eating by myself.”

Jimmy clapped Samuel on the shoulder. “It might be easier if you moved, instead. Or you could behave and let everyone enjoy their supper in peace.”

“I’ll be good. I promise. Hey, look over there. Here comes the fashion squad, running fashionably late.”

Jimmy gazed up at Ginger as she passed to sit at their table, appreciating the way her hair fell over one eye, the soft tan of her skin, her curves. She glanced his way and Jimmy quickly averted his interest to ceiling tiles.

Mark pulled another chair out for his twin sister, Molly.

Only two seats remained empty and it didn’t take long to be noticed. “So where’s your brother?” Vanessa asked Jimmy. “And mine?”

Mark cleared his throat. “Uh, Scout went searching for Hunter this morning.”

“Again? I bet he was real happy about that.”

“Not really,” Mark said, glancing at Jimmy, who fidgeted with the brim of his hat.

“I’m sorry, Vanessa,” Jimmy said. “But I needed Scout’s help. Hunter’s two days late.”

“Hunter’s always two days late.” She leaned over and offered Jimmy’s hand a little pat. “Scout will find him. Don’t worry; I’m sure Hunter’s fine. If anyone can handle themselves in the Big Bad, it’s those two.”

Chef Brittany assumed her position at the head of a long table where the prepared food waited for takers. She lifted a small musical triangle. The room quieted for a short anticipatory second while Brittany surveyed the room with a smile.

“Dinner is served,” she announced, and rang the triangle.

Wooden chairs knocked against hardwood floors and everyone formed two lines on either side of the buffet. The other two of the four Brittany’s circled the room, replacing the empty water pitchers. Jimmy moved slowly through the long line, loading his plate with warm, buttery food and then he hustled back to his seat.

Samuel sat and immediately stuffed his face, heedless of Jimmy’s disapproving stare. Jimmy waited patiently for his other dining companions to return before eating. He forked into his eggplant and remembered the flowers. “Hey, Vanessa, did the kids plant a flower bed at our house this afternoon?”

“No,” she said, pausing over the full plate of catfish and pickles that Mark gave her. Everyone in town went crazy when one of the Brittanys rediscovered the pickling process. “Maybe you have a secret admirer.”

Jimmy shook his head with disbelief. Samuel laughed with his mouth open and full of food. Then Jimmy caught Ginger staring at him as he topped off his water. He smiled back, she dropped eye contact and he sloshed water on the table.

Sponging up the mess with his napkin, Jimmy noticed Molly glaring at Ginger. “How are things at the sewing shop, Molly? Are the new recruits working out okay?”

Molly perked up with a big smile and batted her eyelashes at him. “They’re doing wonderful, Jimmy. Thank you so much for the extra help. I desperately needed it. We were getting a bit behind on the winter clothing. My assistant decided to take on some extra work.”

“What extra work?” Jimmy asked.

“Ask her .” Molly stabbed her fork in Vanessa’s direction.

Samuel coughed and whispered, “Disengage,” in Jimmy’s direction.

Mark stopped eating. “What’s wrong, Molly?”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about it, Mark. It’s really nothing,” Molly said, refolding the napkin in her lap.

“Sounds like you want to make it something,” Vanessa said.

Jimmy chewed on a piece of catfish, careful not to choke on a bone. Molly glowered at Vanessa while Vanessa appeared annoyed, like she’d been playing this game since she started seeing Mark and was really over it. Mark wore his concerned brother expression, after setting down his fork and giving Molly his full attention. Ginger and Luis did the smart thing and gazed at their plates. Jimmy seriously considered finding a less combustible dining party.

“Jimmy’s afraid of dying,” Samuel said.

The bone Jimmy was chewing around snapped.

Vanessa rubbed circles on his back. “We’re all afraid of dying, Sammy, but thank you so much for sharing. I bet Jimmy will want to thank you later personally.”

“Count on it,” Jimmy said under his breath.

Vanessa regarded Molly like sunshine on morning frost. “What’s your problem this time?”

Molly’s smoldering composure ignited. She stabbed her fork through her catfish filet and left it standing there. “I don’t have a problem. It’s obvious you have a problem with me . I can’t believe you went behind my back to have your baby clothes made.”