“I did some self-talking in my head about not feeling small in that huge place and then about not being intimidated by a woman with a lot of money and a look on her face like maybe I smelled bad. Which made me check both armpits and be happy that I smelled kind of like a pine tree. Meemaw, riding shotgun as usual, gave me a worried look. I put up one finger, letting her know I needed just a minute to think before we went in . . . * * * When I’d gotten back to The Squirrel, and explai...ned what happened, Jessie agreed I had better things to do than gorge myself on Cecil’s Bangers and Mash. “I saw a plate of it go by,” she whispered. “Looked like pig intestines curled over a lump of yellowish mashed potatoes. Let’s get out of here.” “You tell Deputy Austen about the man?” she asked on the way out the door, the tinkling bell letting Cecil know we were leaving without eating, for which I would pay—double and dearly—the next time I was in.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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