Jean Harnett

Chapter 11: December

It was Tuesday evening and the four of them were to meet at the Home Cafe to consume Made Rites, French fries, and soft drinks. A typical teenage supper menu, but these happened to be four teachers who were able to consume it.

The men arrived first and sat facing each other across the small turquoise upholstered booth. A few minutes later Jean and Zoe appeared.

"Sorry." Jean sat beside Craig. "Just getting the car gassed up." She glanced up at Zoe who was still standing. "Would you want to sit beside Craig? I can sit beside Brian."

Brian and Zoe exchanged cool glances.

"Sit down, Bergetti. I won't bite. There's too many witnesses."

Zoe seated herself beside Brian in the cramped booth, but it was obvious that they were both uncomfortable by their closeness. Jean could've kicked herself. Why hadn't she prevented this scene by plunking down beside Brian?

"I don't know how the teenagers tolerate these cramped booths," Zoe grumbled.

Brian turned watery eyes on her. "Simple. They LIKE to sit close together. You remember that age, don't you, Red, when all your hormones were roaring in hyper-drive, and everything your mama ever warned you about boys seemed old-fashioned? Or is that all too far in the distant past for you to remember?"

Zoe turned with a retort on her lips, but Jean spoke first. "Did you guys order for us?"

"Made Rites and fries all around," Craig answered.

"Good choice," Jean agreed.

"The only choice," Brian mumbled.

In some circles the savory hamburger and tomato sauce mixture served on a bun was known as Sloppy Joes, but in this part of the state they were called Made Rites. Some people swore they could live on them, and other people wished that they could.

"So, how do you think the game will go tonight?" Jean asked, determined to get the conversation moving.

"Dexter will beat our skivvies off," Brian answered.

"You can only hope, you dirty old man," Zoe retorted, "since it's the girls who are playing."

Brian turned with a snarl and drew in his breath.

"Look! Our food is here!" Jean said brightly. "Doesn't it look delicious?!"

They fell to eating, and the greasy, spicy mess was indeed delicious. Years later, they would fight fat and cholesterol because of meals like this one, but right now they naively dined and enjoyed themselves.

"Nutritionists claim that Made Rites are bad for us," Zoe commented, just to keep an argument going. She resented having to sit next to Brian.

Brian rotated his head so that his rheumy eyes studied her. "Tell you what, Red. You just go have your grilled chicken breast on wheat with a side of steamed asparagus while we, the great unwashed, blindly indulge in a plateful of culinary sin."

Zoe shrugged. "I was just repeating what nutritionists say."

"And a hundred years from now, we'll all be in the same cemetery together, you, me, and all of those health nuts. There's no other way of getting around it, Red. Death is a fact of life."

"My, aren't we the cheery one tonight?" Zoe grumbled.

"These fries are nice and hot," Jean said in her best perky voice.

"I can't seem to get ours this crisp," Zoe lamented.

"You can't get the grease as hot as they can here at the cafe," Jean answered. "And they use a huge pan while you have only a skillet."