Page 54 of Once Upon a Fall

This place puts maple on everything. The first time I came here, before I started cooking for myself, I was told that’s because a maple farm in town supplies it.

“Just a regular, please,” I tell the man.

“Coming right up,” he says. “Are you the fella staying at Rosie’s?”

“I am.”

“I thought it was you. Edna Bloomberg—the one with the dark hair—told me you were staying there,” he says.

Of course she did.

So, the dark-haired one is Edna B. Rosie is going to love this.

“How’s Rosie doing?” he asks, as if he knew I was just thinking about her. “She still got my truck in her garage?”

Ah. Right.

“You must be Hal,” I say.

“At your service.” He gives me a little head bow.

“Order up! Regular burger and fries,” he yells through the swinging door behind the bar.

“On it,” someone yells back.

He turns back around and looks at me for a beat longer than he needs to. “Alden, right?” he says. “You’re Robert and Vivian’s.”

“They’re my grandparents.”

“Knew it.” He points to a spot down the bar. “Your grandfather used to sit right there. Great people, both of them.”

“They were.”

He grabs a towel and starts wiping down the bar.

“Your truck is still there, by the way,” I tell him.

“Good, good.” He works on a spot that needs more elbow grease. “She’s a peach, that girl. Didn’t even hesitate when I asked her to hold it for me.”

I smile to myself.

No. She wouldn’t have.

“I think you told her it would only be a week, right?” I don’t know why I say it. Maybe I’m feeling protective after the whole Jackson/nanny revelation this afternoon.

It’s none of my business, but Rosie isn’t going to ask this man to move his truck. Maybe if I give him a little nudge, he might do it himself.

“Did I?” he asks. “It was my dad’s. It sat on the side of my house for four years. The thing doesn’t even run. My wife is begging me to sell it. I probably just need to do it.”

Okay, so he’s not getting my point.

Also, the truck has been sitting there for four years? And he can’t make a decision about it? Does Rosie know this? And was he planning on leaving it in her garage for another four?

“Rosie’s got festival tables coming this week,” I try again. “To put in the garage.”

His eyebrows go up. “Huh.” He considers it for about half a second. “Well, she’d have said something if it was in the way.”

“Right,” I say. Hal seems like a nice guy, but he can’t take a hint to save his life.