The Sweetness of Salt(24)

“You two go on over and eat now,” Lloyd said, gesturing toward the waitress with his chin. “You keep blocking Miriam’s way, she’s gonna get all ornery on me, and slip some regular in with my decaf.”

Miriam, pouring coffee at the next table, raised a thin eyebrow in Lloyd’s direction. Sophie laughed. “Okay. Talk to you later, guys.”

“Later,” Lloyd said.

“Make sure you get the special,” Walt said, leaning back in his chair. “It’s excellent.”

“What is it?” Sophie asked.

“Creamed chipped beef over biscuits, plus two fried eggs.”

Sophie and I exchanged a look. “We’ll think about it, Walt,” Sophie said.

We settled ourselves at our table as Walt turned back around.

“You know, I saw that other guy—the one with the Red Sox hat—this morning,” I kept my voice low as I opened my napkin and put it in my lap.

“Jimmy?” Sophie asked.

“Yeah, he was walking along the street and I asked him for directions to your place. He didn’t say anything, though. He just pointed to it.”

“Yeah, that’s Jimmy,” Sophie said. “He doesn’t talk much.”

“He’s shy?”

“No, he’s not shy. I’ve seen him talk with certain people. Like Goober. He loves Goober. He’ll talk up a storm with her.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. He lost his wife a while back. And he’s…particular, I guess.” She reached out and rubbed my hand. “I still can’t believe you’re here. It’s just so great!”

Miriam appeared next to us suddenly, holding her coffee pot directly over my cup. She had an elfish-looking face, with small green eyes, a pointed chin, and round cheeks. “Coffee, girls?”

“Please.” Sophie and I both pushed our cups forward.

“Know what you want?” Miriam asked.

“Oh, you have to get the pancakes,” Sophie said to me. “They use real maple syrup here that they tap themselves. Wait’ll you taste it. It’s incredible.”

I glanced over as a burst of laughter exploded from the Table of Knowledge. Walt slapped the sides of his belly and then leaned over, spitting a brown substance into a cup. Lloyd tilted his head back and laughed again. Even Jimmy smiled—into his coffee cup.

“So all of them have been helping you?” I asked. “With the house?”

Sophie leaned forward, her fingers balanced on the rim of her cup. “Julia, let me tell you something. I don’t know where I would be or what I would be doing right now if it weren’t for those guys.” She glanced down. “It was kind of stupid, really, when I think about it now—just buying a place with no real knowledge of how to fix it up or anything. I mean, look at it!” We both stared out the window at the house across the street, which managed somehow, despite the distance, to look even worse. “And that’s with work done,” Sophie said. “You should’ve seen the place when I first bought it.”

I stared at the structure, trying to imagine it looking worse than it did now.

It was difficult.

“So…why are they helping you?” I asked. “I mean, it’s nice of them and everything, but it just seems kind of weird. You buy this place, move to this town where no one knows you, and suddenly three strangers just…”

“The house used to belong to Jimmy’s family,” Sophie said. “It’s kind of a cool story, actually. The three of them—Walt and Lloyd and Jimmy—have been best friends since elementary school. Apparently Walt and Lloyd used to hang out over there when they were growing up. I guess back then it was a really beautiful place. But as Jimmy’s family passed away, it started to fall apart. No one’s lived in it for years.”

“So the three of them have a vested interest in getting it fixed up again,” I concluded.

Sophie nodded. “Exactly.”

“That’s nice of them,” I said softly.

“It is nice,” Sophie echoed. “And don’t get me wrong when I say this, because I’m more than grateful for everything they’ve done. But I want to do some on my own too. It’s one thing to have help. It’s another to have three different opinions breathing down your neck all day, every day.”

I glanced over in their direction. Lloyd had finally spotted the egg on his shirt and was brushing it off. Walt was beckoning to Miriam for another coffee. And Jimmy was looking at something outside. They looked okay to me. And I liked the whole part about them having a stake in getting the house fixed up. But it still felt a little weird. And I hoped Sophie knew what she was doing.





chapter


17


When she lived at home, Saturday mornings were sacred to Sophie. That was when she rolled up her sleeves, donned an apron, and began to bake. Cookies mostly at first, until she moved on to things like bread and fudge and pies and cakes. Even if I slept in late, I always knew it was Saturday because the smells of melted chocolate and sticky vanilla, buttered cookie sheets and roasted walnuts, would fill the house like perfume, punctuated every ten minutes or so by the tiny ding of the timer on the stove.

I was not allowed anywhere near Sophie on Saturdays; she demanded to be alone. Even Mom and Dad cleared out, eating breakfast early and then making themselves scarce so Sophie could have free reign in the kitchen. But I loved to be around Sophie when she baked. I sat on the bottom step in the living room, which gave me a nearly perfect view of my big sister while still hiding me from her sight.