Pieces of Hope by Carolyn Carter Read Free Book Online Page A

me!”
    “She’s
fine, my dear. Just fine.” Creesie patted my hands
from across the table.
    I
couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something slightly off about Creesie . While it was true that she looked like a teenager,
it wasn’t like one that I’d ever seen. In some vague way, she seemed not
outdated or old-fashioned, but just plain old. I’d nearly wrapped my brain around this idea when—as if she’d plucked the words
right out of my head— Creesie lifted a hand to stop
me.
    “Before
we get into all that,” she said sweetly, “do you mind if we order first? I’m
beyond famished. And judging by the sound of it, I’d wager you are, too.”
    Embarrassed,
I clutched at my stomach. She’d heard that?
    She
dropped her chin, tilted her head slightly, and assessed me with her big brown
eyes. “You’ll love the food here. Most folks say it’s quite heavenly.”
    I looked
up then. Although she wasn’t there the second before, a brunette waitress with
a name tag that read Cat stood beside our table. She wore a pink uniform and a
pair of matching pink glasses that came to a point at the edge of her eyebrows.
    “Cute,
aren’t they?” she asked, smacking her gum. “I don’t need them for seeing, but I
have the hardest time letting go of things I love . . . Know what I mean?” Cat
blew a large pink bubble that vanished just before it popped. Then, without my
asking, though I had been wondering it, she said, “Name’s short for Catherine,
like yours. But, that’s right, you go by Hope. How could I ever forget?”
    I gaped
at her in astonishment. Did everyone here know me?  
    “What
can I get you?” She didn’t hand out menus, so I guessed it was strictly the
basics. Shielding one side of her mouth with a pink-nailed hand, Cat confided,
“ Creesie’s got quite the sweet tooth. Most folks at
the Station do. But just between us girls, I don’t know where she puts it.”
    Creesie laughed pleasantly. “Cat, you know as well as I do
that sugar’s good for the soul. Why else would we eat so much of it?” Cat gave
a half-shrug. “And there’s no need to butter me up, you know you’ll always be
my favorite waitress.”
    My eyes
flicked around. From what I could see, in this bustling café, Cat was also the only waitress. Good thing they had a limited
menu.
    “Just
bring us a snack for now,” Creesie told her. Cat
didn’t remove the pen from behind her ear, nor the ordering pad from her
apron’s pocket. Instead, she blew another disappearing pink bubble. “Hope and I
have important matters to discuss.”
    Important?
What could Creesie and I possibly have to—
    “How
about a frozen Snickers and a cup of very sweet coffee?” Creesie decided.
    Cat
bobbed her head as if this were an excellent choice, something along the lines
of filet mignon, then turned to me. When I didn’t respond, she said, “Anything
you want, Hope. Anything at all. Your imagination’s the only limitation . . .”
    I
faltered; words refused to form in my brain. It was beginning to dawn on me
that nothing and no one in this place was anywhere close to normal. And though
I was trying desperately not to panic, my heart wasn’t cooperating very well.
    Seeming
to sense my distress, Cat came to my rescue. “How about a peanut butter and
jelly sandwich? Crunchy, with grape jelly. No crusts. Wheat bread, right?” I
nodded, jaw open. It was the way Mom used to make them. Cat and Creesie shared a chuckle, and then Cat disappeared through
a set of double doors at the far end of the café. Seconds later, I looked down
and saw two sparkling white plates that held our requests. Next to mine was a
large glass of frosty cold milk. Just what I’d wanted.
    While I
gulped down the sandwich—mostly to keep my mouth closed—I studied the place
intently. Nearly everyone seemed to have arrived for a costume party, my new
companion included. Their attire wasn’t unusually fancy, but they spanned more
decades than I could count. Several