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Driving back to the cafe, I realized I was still worried about leaving Chance on his own. He's a big boy, and I need to get over it. That's easier said than done apparently. Every time I got a few miles away from him, I began to visualize all the things that could happen to him as he tried to make dinner or take a bath. Oh. My. God. That bathtub scene was epic in more ways than one. I definitely need to share that one with Krista. One nice thing about moving to a totally new area is that you can share stories with friends in your former hometown and know it won't make its way to the local rumor mill. I definitely need to schedule a long talk with Krista soon. I’ll conveniently forget to tell her that when I sneaked a peak at Chance in the tub, he had a towel covering the most interesting parts.
Back at the cafe, I changed clothes and headed down to spend some time in my office. These first few weeks weren't normal. I knew things would settle into a routine eventually. I had to figure out how many hours I would spend working at the cafe. I wanted to make sure we had enough help. I really didn't know how Harry handled it, so I asked Rick.
"Harry checked on things and took care of problems, if there were any, like if we lost a supplier or something," he said. "He hung out in the back booth in the dining room when he wasn't out in the woods. He spent a lot of time on his cryptid research."
"I'm trying to figure out what a normal schedule will be for me," I explained. "Do you feel like you need more help?" Based on my cursory look at the financials, I could add some part time staff if I needed it. Thinking about the financials reminded me that I still need to take a closer look at the accounts. I was still worried that what I saw on my initial review didn't seem to fit the amount of business I saw come through the cafe.
Sally knocked on the doorframe. "Everly, there are some people out front that want to talk to you."
I followed her out to a table in the dining room where two men were sitting. They were both older and dressed like hunters. They had pictures spread out on the table.
"Hi. I'm Everly Mason, the new owner of Hairy's. Is there something I can help you with?"
"We were real sorry to hear about Harry. He was a good friend to all cryptid hunters. We wanted to give you this picture to add to the information here," one of them said nodding toward the wall.
"What is it?" I asked, picking up the photo for a closer look.
"That there is a Thunderbird feather," the other one said.
"How old is it?"
"Don't know. We saw the thunderbird fly overhead. It was quite a sight." The first man took the picture out of my hand and tucked it back in a manila envelope. He handed the envelope to me. "The info is all in there with the picture. Maybe it'll be on the wall next time we stop by. We're from New Mexico, but we try to get up here a time or two a year."
"Another photo for the wall?" Sally asked when I made my way to the counter.
"Yeah," I said. "I'm not sure we have room for any more."
"How's the patient?" she asked, when she stepped behind the cash register to grab a drink of the root beer she always kept beneath the counter.
"Patient?"
"Chance. I thought you were off playing nursemaid. Or is he healthy enough that you were playing doctor instead?" she grinned.
"Southern girls don't kiss and tell," I said. Then realized that was the wrong comment.
"So, you kissed Chance Munroe? How was it?"
I kept my smile in place.
"Oh right, southern girls don't kiss and tell. Far as I know, you’re the only woman that's set foot inside Chance's A-frame except his Mom."
"His house is really nice. I was surprised at how clean and neat it was. He's doing OK. He won't be doing any hunting for a while, but he should make a full recovery by Christmas."
I asked Sally if she felt we needed some part time waitress help, and she told me it depended on how much time I planned to spend in the cafe. She told the same story as Rick—Harry didn't work in the cafe on a regular basis, so my current employees were used to shouldering the load. "You might need to find someone else to cook. Right now, if Rick's out we just offer things Sally, and I can manage like burgers and fries. It would be nice to have more options," she said. "There's a lot of people around here who'd be happy to have the work. When you decide what you're looking for, let us know, and we'll probably know someone. Are you here for dinner tonight?"
"No. I have a date."
"Taking dinner to Chance again?"
"No. Tonight I have a real date."
"Oh. When is Jim picking you up?"
"Not Jim. Tom Beckett." In the short time I'd been in Wilkins’ Gap, I learned there was no point trying to keep that sort of thing secret. I was sure by the time I saw Jim tomorrow, he'd know I'd been out with Tom.