Trace

Chapter 56

"We should go to a fancy restaurant and act like a married couple," Gretchynn laughs as we ride in my car to lunch.

"What the fuck?" I say, but force a chuckle to mask my snarl.

Gretchynn giggles and turns up the volume on my radio.

I turn it back down and glance over at her.

"Can I ask you for some advice?" I slowly request, feeling like a complete idiot.

She smiles and plays with her hair a little.

"Of course," she grins, "about what?"

A million thoughts are racing in my mind, like why the hell am I asking Gretchynn for advice?

"I, um," I clear my throat, "it's about El."

Immediately, the smile is wiped clean off of her face, and I clutch the steering wheel as I focus my eyes back to the roadway.

"What about her. . .?"

I think a moment before answering.

"It's not particularly about her," I finally get out.

"Then what?" she snaps.

"Just the situation I'm in, I guess."

"Why the fuck do you need advice about it?"

I roll my eyes. "Well, shit, Gretch. If I would have known the topic would put you in a pissy mood, I wouldn't have said anything to begin with."

She huffs and turns to look out the window on her side. Irritation begins to swell inside my chest; I grip the wheel harder.

"Whatever," she breathes, after about a minute or two of silence. "What can I help with?"

I turn on my blinker, pulling into a small cafe called Green Top.

"It doesn't matter, just forget it."

Gretchynn doesn't object, and I find myself growing more annoyed by that. We both get out of the car and silently make our way into the cafe.

"This is nice, do you come here often?" Gretch looks around the small place.

"I've been here a few times with Sean; the food's good, so whatever," I shrug, leading us to a small round table.

We take a seat, and only what feels like a few seconds later, a stout woman with greying hair bounces to our table.

"Good afternoon, my name is Mary...how may I help you?"

Her cheeks are rosy and her teeth are a greyish colour that match her hair.

"Oh, we actually just got here," muses Gretch, in an awfully high tone.

Mary shakes her head, "I'm so sorry, you two take your time."

I raise a finger. "I'm actually ready to order."

Gretchynn shoots me a glare and flicks her eyes back to the small menu.

"Oh, well don't you want to give your lady some time?" the waitress chuckles.

The way she says your lady sends a quick fire of fury through my veins, but it is quickly dissolved.

"Yeah, give me time," grumbles Gretch before I can correct the old hag that she is most definitely not mine.

I expect Mart to trot away in the same fashion she came, but she stays standing over us with a sloppy grin on her face.

"Can I help you?" I bark, not feeling at all pleased with this odd old woman spectating me.