Page 208 of Micah

She laughs.

“You've been floating around this place all afternoon.”

Great.

So everyone knows I've completely lost my mind. We exchange a few more words, then I grab a smoked brisket sandwich from the kitchen and eat it, standing behind the bar.

The hours drift by.

Customers come and go. I refill glasses. Run food. Cash people out.

The usual.

But today, I smile more. I laugh more easily. And I answer questions.

The motions are familiar enough that my body handles them without much help from my brain.

Because my brain?

It's somewhere out on Jersey Iron Ranch with one grumpy cowboy who kisses like he means forever.

I don't notice how late it's gotten until Freddy pokes his head out of the kitchen.

“Night, Boss.”

I blink.

“Already?”

He laughs.

“Told you she was daydreaming.”

One of the cooks snickers.

“We took care of the trash, and we’ll lock the back door, Boss.”

“Okay,” I reply, stunned. “See you tomorrow.”

Freddy and the rest of them wave and head out the back.

I wave back absently. When I look up again, the dining room is almost empty.

When did that happen?

I glance toward the front windows.

The sun is long gone.

The neon beer signs have taken over, splashing red and blue across the polished floor.

Milly never showed.

Again.

Which leaves just me and Joan.

Wonderful.