The coffee would have been too weak, the cream too warm, the eggs too runny. Oscar would have thrown the plate against the wall and that would have just been the beginning of his tirade. Sugar cowered, her eyes wide, as the waitress leaned over her to get the empty toast plate.
“Hey,” the waitress said, head tipped and brow knit. “Relax a little, honey. You look like you haven’t slept in days. Are you okay?”
“She’s fine,” Bertie assured her. “Just hungry, just like me. Bring us another plate of bacon, will ya?”
“Growing boy,” the waitress said as she veered away.
Sugar ran her hand across her hair. Oscar would have raged at her when he was done with the food, appalled at her failure to attend to her hair, her make-up, her clothing, and her general hygiene. He would have announced that this was yet another reason why she should not be allowed in the outside world. She rubbed her eyes and raised her chin to get a closer look at the light above the booth. The bulb seemed dim compared to the bright lights of home. Oscar would have made her get up and fix it, right now, even in the middle of the meal.
Bertie watched her as he cut his eggs. “Eat something, Lady,” he commanded. “If you’re sticking with me, you might not see food for a while.”
“Why?”
“I left most of my cash at the old dame’s house. I didn’t mean to. I just panicked.”
“Money. I have some of that. I took it out of Oscar’s sock drawer.” She pulled a wad of cash from her jacket pocket and held it out.
“Hey, I’m okay to pay for breakfast. Keep that. I have a couple twenties stashed in the compartment in my…darn. I didn’t put my own belt back on. That was stupid. Well, I guess you’ll have to pay for the both of us…if you don’t mind.”
She shook her head. “What are we doing after breakfast?”
“It doesn’t have to be ‘we.’ You’re free to do what you like.”
Sugar looked out the window, watching customers come and go, focused on their smiles, the easy way they chatted and touched. Their movements seemed so foreign. The only familiar thing around was Bertie. “What are we doing then?”
“Unless you have a better idea, we’re getting out of town and heading some place where we can get day labor jobs for a while. I know you can work and that moola isn’t going to last us long. We’ll have to sleep in a few more doorways before we can even get ourselves into a homeless shelter. It won’t be easy.”
“What is?”
