Marc

I pointed to the fifth booth on the left. “Right over there.”

“Okay,” Taryn said.

Halfway to the booth, Charlee sat up and peered over the top of her seat. Upon seeing us, she straightened her posture and set her book to the side.

“Is that her?” Taryn whispered.

“That’s her.”

“She’s adorable.”

“Don’t let her age fool you,” I said. “She’ll lure you in with her curls and her smile, then she’ll crush you with her intellect.”

“I’ll be careful.”

We sat across from each other in the booth. I pushed the silverware to the side, tossed my newspaper on the seat beside me, and leaned over the edge of the table. “I really like your hair that color.”

It had grown to the middle of her back and was fixed in an almost straight style, with just a slight curl twisted into three-fourths of the length. Over the last three months, her hair had been three different colors, but I liked the dull gray the most.

At least for the time being.

“Thank you. I can’t decide if I do or not.”

“When it’s that color naturally, you’ll want to change it,” I said. “For now, enjoy it. Personally, I like it. A lot.”

I glanced at Charlee. She was wadded into a ball in the back of the booth, eyeing Taryn from head to toe. After a hardened inspection, she unfolded her legs, scooted to the center of her booth, and then volleyed a compliment over.

“I like your hair.”

Taryn looked at her and smiled. “Thank you. I just did it. I can’t decide if I like it or not.”

Charlee inspected her hair one last time. “When I’m eighteen, I’m going to do that. If it’s still cool. If it’s not, I’ll do something else kind of like that. Something trendy.”

“Tell me when you’re ready,” Taryn said with a smile. “I’ll do it for you.”

Charlee edged closer. “Do you do hair?”

“I do.”

“Cool.”

“Marc tells me you’re a reader. What are you reading?”

Charlee lifted her chin slightly. A look of uncertainty followed. “Do you read?”

“I do. Probably not anything you’d read, though.”

“Like what?”

“Romance novels.”

Charlee flipped her hair away from her face and slid a little closer. “I don’t read romance novels. Not today’s romance novels, anyway. Romance doesn’t really exist anymore and here’s why. Boys are dumb. And, dumb people do inherently dumb things. Girls are smart, but we’re intrinsic dreamers. Therefore, when boys lie to us and tell us what we’ve come to expect from reading romance novels, we believe them. We trust them because we want to believe in the concept of love. I’m no longer receptive to their comments and pre-prepared pickup lines. In the end, they’ll break your heart. Bradley Prescott broke mine. I’ll never recover. At least not totally. The way it stands now, I’ll be single forever.”

“I’m sorry your heart was broken.” Taryn scooted to the inside edge of the booth. “Want to join us?”

Charlee’s eyes shot toward the kitchen and then back to Taryn. “Just until the food comes.”

As she climbed in the booth, her mother approached.

“Good morning,” Jacky said with a broad smile. “What can I get you two to drink?”

“Coffee,” I said. “And the usual.”

She looked at Taryn. “Would you like to see a menu?”

“No thank you. I’d like the huevos rancheros. And coffee. Cream and sugar, please.”

Jacky smiled. “The huevos rancheros are great, by the way. I’ve tried to get him to eat them, but getting him to make a change to his routine is impossible. Every day for the last two years, he gets the same thing.”

“Jacky,” I said. “This is Taryn. Taryn, Jacky.”

Jacky wiped her hand on her apron and offered it. “Nice to meet you.”

Taryn shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“I’ll get this right in,” Jacky said. “It’ll be up in a few.”

As she turned away, she glanced over her shoulder. “Leave them alone, Charlee. They didn’t come in here to see you.”

“I invited her over,” I said.

“Only until the food comes.”

Taryn gestured under the table. “I like your shoes.”

“I like yours. I saw them when you came in,” Charlee said. “I hate ‘em when they’re new, but I really like yours. Red’s a cool color for Chucks.”

“We think alike.”

Charlee made a fist and held it between them. Taryn pounded hers lightly against it, and Charlee did the explosion thing with her hand. I was worried they wouldn’t get along, but it sure looked like I was wrong.

“Boys aren’t dumb,” Taryn said. “They just--”

Charlee motioned toward me. “I don’t think Atticus is dumb. Everyone else is.”

Taryn looked surprised. “Atticus?”

Charlee nodded. “From To Kill a Mockingbird.”

“Atticus Finch?”

“Charlee’s eyes shot wide. “You know the book?”

“One of my favorites.” Taryn looked at me. “She calls you Atticus?”

“She has since she read the book.”

She shifted her eyes to Charlee. “I can see why you call him that.”

“Why?” Charlee said, challenging Taryn with her tone.

Taryn took the challenge, and responded without thought. “Atticus is stern when he has to be, but he always takes time for a bedtime story. He teaches his children to do what’s right, regardless of the cost. He set a prime example for them by defending Tom Robinson. Atticus defined humility, and did it with southern grace. Marc is the same. Always doing what is right, regardless of the cost. And, he doesn’t want the recognition, either.”

“You see him differently,” Charlee said. “I like what you said, but I don’t know him like you do. Here’s what I was thinking.”

She wadded her hair into a quick bun and then twisted in her seat to face Taryn. As she cracked her knuckles and shook her head in preparation of the speech she was going to give, her bun came undone and her long curls fell into her face.

“Let me show you something,” Taryn said.

She removed a hair tie from her wrist, and asked Charlee to turn around. She then separated Charlee’s hair into four sections – each side, the top, and the back. Explaining everything as she went, she made a conventional ponytail with the back section, and then scrunched it into a curly wad, using the hair tie to hold it in place. Each section was taken, twisted until almost tight, and then wrapped around the back portion loosely. After tucking the ends into the hair tie, she teased it into an elegant bun.

She pulled a mirror from her purse. “Here. Have a look.”

Charlee looked in the mirror. Her eyes slowly widened. She turned to the left, and then the right. “This is awesome. Thank you.”

“Maybe if Bradley Prescott sees you with your hair fixed like that, things will be different.”

“Oh!” Charlee exclaimed. Her eyes shot to me. “I almost forgot. Guess what?”

“What?”

“Catelyn Mayberry. She goes to my school.”

I recognized the name from the names of the nine girls who were kidnapped. I widened my eyes in feigned surprise. “Oh. It’s a small world, huh?”

“It is.”

“Who is she?” Taryn asked.

“She was one of the girls who was kidnapped last summer,” Charlee said. “Some guys that work with Marc saved her, and she’s back in school now. We’re friends. That’s all.”

Taryn smiled, shifted her eyes to me, and held my gaze. “That’s awesome.”

“Back to Atticus,” Charlee said. “Atticus gave words of wisdom on how to live life, but he didn’t do it in by saying, here’s words of wisdom on how to live life. Everything he did and said could be looked at as advisory. In his being, he was an exemplary example of mankind.”

She looked at me. “That’s why I call him Atticus.”

I doubt until that moment that I had ever blushed. Hearing Charlee’s examination of me sure made me do so, though.

“Quite a compliment,” Taryn said.

“He’s quite a guy,” Charlee said.

“He sure is.”

Balancing two plates on her arm, and carrying two cups of coffee in her free hand, Jacky stepped to the edge of the table.

Charlee let out an audible sigh and then stood. “Let them eat, Charlee.”

Jacky set the plates on the table, and then slid the cups of coffee beside them. “Sorry about the coffee, I made a new pot. I doubted you’d get a drink in with the little motormouth sitting here.”

She glanced at Charlee and grinned. “Wow. I like your hair.”

“She did it.”

Jacky looked at Taryn. “You’ll have to show me how.”

“I know how, Mom. She doesn’t need to show you.”

Jacky rolled her eyes and then looked the table over. “Creamer and sugar are in the caddy. Enjoy.”

Taryn situated her plate, and then reached for her silverware. “This looks great. Thanks for the recommendation.”

I unrolled my napkin and pulled out the silverware. “She said they were good. I hope they are.”

I took a sip of coffee, and then began my meal. Before I finished my first bite, Taryn let out an exaggerated sigh. “Oh. My. God.”

I looked up. “What?”

“Try this.”

I pierced the other half of my egg, folded it over, and poked it in my mouth. After swallowing it, I wiped the corners of my mouth with my napkin. “Okay.”

“Let me get you the perfect bite.”

After assembling a bite with a piece of tortilla, part of a fried egg, some salsa, sauce, and beans, she carefully lifted her fork. “Come here, before I drop this.”

I opened my mouth and leaned forward.

She shoved the fork into my mouth. “See what you think.”

To describe the mixture of flavors as magnificent would have been a grotesque understatement. I savored the flavors as I chewed, and eventually swallowed.

“Well?”

I lifted my chin and gazed toward the back of the diner. “Jacky?”

She turned around. “Something wrong?”

“Another plate of huevos rancheros, please.”

“Never say never,” she said with a huge smile. “It’ll be up in a few.”

I slid my plate to the side and reached for the newspaper. When I was halfway through reading the second front page article, my breakfast arrived. I folded the paper and set it beside me on the seat.

Jacky set the plate on the edge of the table. “It just took meeting the right woman to open your eyes.”

My gaze shifted to Taryn. Appreciating her beauty came easily. Every moment that I spent with her brought something new to love. Jacky was right. For the first time in my life, my eyes were wide open.

Through them I saw life with a newfound clarity.

I savored every bite of my new eggs, pleased that I’d taken the risk to try them.

As Charlee read, we finished our coffee. I tucked my newspaper under my arm, and stood. After tossing $60 onto the table, I turned toward Charlee.

“You never said what you were reading, Scout.”

She looked up. “Green Eggs and Ham, by Dr, Seuss.”

I wrinkled my nose and stared. It made no sense. “Dr. Seuss? What?”

She turned and waved to Taryn, and then looked at me. She must have sensed my confusion.

“It’ll come to you soon enough. Have a nice day, Atticus.”