MacKenzie Fire(16)

“No, I’m not going into that diner.”

I disengage myself from her to keep from falling again, glad that I’ve distracted her from the shooting incident, but now curious about her diner-o-phobia. I fully intend to stay upright as I get to the bottom of it, so I keep my legs spread kind of far apart just in case the ice has other ideas. It’s probably a good thing I don’t have my gun on my hip yet; I’d look like I was ready for a shootout at the O.K. Corral.

“Why?” I look over my shoulder at the greasy spoon. “It seems harmless enough.”

“That’s where Hannah works. She and I are not on good terms.” Andie takes a few steps backwards. I admire her ability to reverse on ice without even batting an eye. Puffy Girl’s got skills.

I don’t follow her, feeling safer with just keeping my feet planted on somewhat solid ground. Trying to negotiate the icy sidewalk, avoiding the subject of Ian, and also talking about town gossip all at the same time could be a problem for me right now.

“Hannah?” I ask. “As in, Hannah Banana?”

Andie smiles but without much humor. “You remember her, I guess.”

“Who could forget? Daisy Duke from the wrong side of the tracks and a bad dye job. I thought you guys had moved on.” Hannah had a thing for Mack if I remember correctly. But since Mack never liked her back, I thought it wasn’t a big deal.

“Yeah. We moved on by avoiding each other.”

My eyes roam the street, and the image of the town map that’s burned into my brain pops up. I’m a human Google Earth like that. Once I see a map, it’s permanently in there. “That can’t be easy in such a small place.” I feel bad for my friend. Maybe she feels trapped out there on that ranch. Maybe that’s why she works from home most of the time. It can’t possibly be because she likes the smell of cow poo.

She takes me by the hand and tries to pull me in the opposite direction, but I resist. The traction on my boots is amazing when there’s salt on the ground. I’m totally in the mood to do a high-kick right now just because my new footwear makes me so happy, but I don’t. I could accidentally hit my pregnant friend and with the gun incident earlier, it makes me wonder whose side Luck is on today. I’ll do one later when I’m back at the MacKenzie house. There’s plenty of space in my bedroom for a little Rockettes action. I try to do some high kicks every day just to keep my legs looking good.

“Come on, don’t be stubborn,” she says.

“Stubborn? Me?” I really don’t know what she’s talking about. I’m all about compromising and giving in to other people’s desires. A stylist has to know when to keep her mouth shut and just let the frosted tips and mullets happen. Sometimes a bad experience is a much better teacher than pure advice.

She laughs. “As if that’s news to you. Come on.” She waves her hand over and over like she’s trying to tempt a child.

I stick out my lower lip. She cannot resist me now. “No. I’m hungry.” Truth is, I’m really not that hungry. I just want to see that Hannah Banana chick and let her know without Andie catching me that she can’t keep making Andie feel uncomfortable. This is my BFF’s home now. She should feel free to go anywhere she wants. She’s going to have a baby soon, and that baby is eventually going to want to eat a pancake.

She tries to use reason on me. “We just ate.”

“That was hours ago,” I argue. “It’s almost lunch time.”

Andie looks at her watch. “It’s ten in the morning, Candice.”

“See? It’s past noon on the east coast and I’m jet lagging like a bitch. Come on.” I take her hand and pull her along. “I heard all about the pancakes they have there. And you know I love bacon.”

“Their pancakes suck. It’s their waffles that are good. Or so I hear.”

“Yeah, that’s what I meant. Waffles. I heard that too.”

I manage to get her almost to the door before she balks again. “Seriously, this is a bad idea. If you’re hungry we can go to the grocery store and buy a whole package of bacon. You can eat the entire thing yourself.”

I grab the door that’s covered in credit card stickers and an old rodeo flier, pulling it open and letting out a blast of deliciously warm and baconey air. “Nothing beats the food from a greasy spoon. You know that.” I gesture with my bag. “In you go, tubby tubblenstein.”

Her mouth drops open. “Oh my god, you did not just call me that.”

Oops. Did I say that out loud? Quick! Think of something!

“No, it was Ian who did. I’m just repeating his words.” That’s a total lie, but I can just imagine how much crap she’s going to give him for it and then how outraged he’ll be when he finds himself falsely accused. I start giggling just seeing it in my head. It’s really not a bad nickname, come to think of it. She is pretty tubby. I love it when my brain just spontaneously takes over like that. It always surprises me.

“He’s going to pay for that,” she says, her expression going dark.

“Yeah. He should.” I follow her inside, feeling like I just smoked a drug or something with how much joy I’m experiencing. Ian’s going to get yelled at, I have purple boots on, and there’s a delicious waffle about to get in my belly. So this is what happiness feels like.