No Story to Tell by K. J. Steele Read Free Book Online Page A

to talk to, that’s all.”
    “Oh, I know. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t harp on it all the time, but it worries me, you being stranded like that. So, what’ll happen when he does find out who gave you a ride into town?”
    Victoria’s eyes flashed Rose’s mouth shut. Their eyes locked.
    “He’ll be mad.”
    “How mad?”
    “Rose, look. Bobby’s got his things, I know that. But he works hard, he comes home most nights . . . I’m not unhappy.” The words came out thin, tinny as she searched for more to bolster them up.
    “You’re not unhappy?” Rose looked at Victoria. Victoria looked out the window. A spider, black and agile, labored in the corner creating a meticulous invisible web.
    “But can you say that you’re happy? Honestly? Can you, Vic?”
    “Rose, what the hell’s the difference? It’s the same bloody thing!”
    “No it’s not, Vic. It’s not at all the same.”
    “Okay, then. All right! I’m happy, okay? I’m fine. See?” Victoria gave Rose a comical, fake smile and Rose smiled back quietly.
    Dishes clattered onto the table between them, and Victoria was glad for the distraction even though the racket jolted her nerves like an unpleasant encounter with the electric fence.
    “What this gunk is supposed to be is anyone’s guess,” Rose said, and Victoria looked up to see her push her salad aside—it was drowned under a mutated concoction of unrecognizable brown dressing. Victoria followed suit, took a bite of her sandwich and chewed it dryly. Lunch at Pearl’s could sometimes be a bit of an ordeal, but Hinckly only offered two other options and in comparison Pearl’s was the boast of the town.
    “Okay, so you’re happy.”
    “Well, of course there’s room for improvement,” Victoria conceded. “But really things aren’t so bad. Just different maybe than what I’d thought.”
    Pearl appeared beside them, splashed more coffee at their cups.
    “What’s the mad’der wit’ yer salad? It’s what ya ordered,” she accused.
    Victoria looked at Rose. Pearl was cantankerous at the best of times and having someone reject her food was definitely not the best of times. Ice set across her sour face, shiny pebble eyes fixed straight ahead, her receding chin quivered slightly in its effort to contain a mouthful of words. She drew her stooped 5’ 2” up full and put a hand on each hip, scrawny elbows sticking outward like weapons. Given a helmet and gun, she would have looked ready to march into war. Victoria ducked her head and shuffled her napkins. One thing about Pearl’s place you could count on: no matter how slow the service, how mixed up the order, or how lousy the food, the customer was always wrong.
    But not Rose. For a time, Pearl and Rose had almost become close, but eventually and perhaps inevitably, a misunderstanding had come between them. Now, they lived in a troubled truce, Pearl being her disagreeable self while Rose slowly wound her way through the maze of insecurities and pride.
    “It’s a lovely salad, Pearl. But we’d ordered Thousand Islands dressing and I’m not sure that’s what we got.” Rose crooned the words, watching Pearl’s belligerent face.
    “Is so.”
    “Well, you must have a different brand than I do then because this definitely doesn’t look like any Thousand Islands I’ve ever seen. Is it a new brand, Pearl?”
    “Naw, not really. I just added some other stuff to it ‘cause there wasn’t much left.”
    “Kind of created your own dressing then, hey?”
    “Yeah. Sometimes ya git little bits left over in the bottles. I just mixed the ones you ordered though . . . mostly. There ain’t no sense throwing it out. Ya gotta be careful in the res’rant business. You wouldn’t know ‘bout that, but ya do. Least ways if’fin’ ya want to be successful. Everyone does it. Ya don’t know it. . . but they does.” Pearl struggled to hang on to her anger, but she withered as she talked, Rose not interrupting just letting her talk herself