My Song for You: A Pushing Limits Novel

My Song for You: A Pushing Limits Novel by Stina Lindenblatt Page A

Book: My Song for You: A Pushing Limits Novel by Stina Lindenblatt Read Free Book Online
Authors: Stina Lindenblatt
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a cheerleader buzzed on caffeine. “Yay! Chocolate milkshake and fries.”
    I chuckled at his enthusiasm. “Okay. Milkshakes and fries it is.”
    The diner was busy when we arrived, with several people waiting ahead of us for a table. The place resembled a restaurant from the fifties, but more recently renovated. In the far corner was an old-fashioned jukebox, but I couldn’t tell if it worked or was just for display. It wasn’t currently playing any music. White and black tiles covered the floor, like a giant checkerboard. Bright red chairs and booth seats added a splash of color. The only things out of place were the dozen framed photos with a windy-weather theme, including a picture of a guy standing in the wind with his umbrella inside out. Some had a more comical feel, while others showcased the emotion behind the high winds in the pictures.
    A woman with chin-length blond hair smiled at Logan. “Hi, honey,” she said in a faded Texas drawl as she ruffled his hair. “You come for the usual?”
    Logan nodded enthusiastically.
    “All right. I’ll get you a table in your mom’s section as soon as I can.” She winked at me and walked off to the kitchen, stopping briefly to speak to Callie.
    Callie looked in our direction and smiled at us. Despite the exhaustion that was clearly weighing her down, her smile was bright and warm.
    We didn’t have to wait more than five minutes before the woman, whose name, I learned, was Alice, led us to a booth. Logan sat and I took the seat opposite him.
    Alice handed me a menu and Logan a coloring page with the kids’ menu at the bottom. “Callie’ll be with you in a minute.” She walked off, leaving me to study my menu.
    “Other than fries and chocolate milkshakes, what else do you recommend?” I asked Logan. I removed my guitar pick from my pocket and flipped it between my fingers and across the back of my hand.
    He shrugged and started coloring the elephant with his favorite color of crayon—green.
    “Do you like burgers?” I asked.
    Before he had a chance to answer, two chocolate milkshakes were placed in front of us. A tall swirl of whipped cream with a cherry sat on top of each shake.
    “If I remember correctly,” Callie said to me, “you used to love chocolate milkshakes.”
    “Still do.” I just couldn’t remember the last time I’d had one. You tended not to go for drinks with the guys and order milkshakes. Beers were the drink of choice when the band went out.
    “I see you haven’t changed much.” She gestured at the guitar pick.
    I’d started playing around with my picks back when I was first learning to play the guitar more seriously. Strumming the instrument somehow grounded me, but when I didn’t have my guitar with me, this did the trick. It had gotten to the point where half the time I was doing it unconsciously.
    “Do you know what else you would like?” Callie pushed back a stray strand of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail.
    “I’ll have a cheeseburger with bacon.”
    “Do you want fries or a salad with that?” She grinned, knowing full well what I thought of salad. In my opinion, the only time lettuce should be on my plate was in a burger or sandwich. Lettuce was for rabbits, not people. She left without waiting for my answer.
    “Can I try?” Logan pointed at my guitar pick, and I spent the next few minutes helping him with the trick.
    “Don’t worry,” I told him after he dropped it on the table for the tenth time. “It just takes practice.” I took the pick from him and slipped it back into my pocket.
    Callie returned ten minutes later, placed our plates in front of us, and set a plate of fries and a club sandwich next to Logan’s. “I’ll be right back.”
    She returned minus her tray and sat next to her son. “Alice insisted I take my lunch break while you two are here.” She hugged her son. “How was preschool?”
    Logan mumbled what sounded like “good” around a mouthful of fries.
    I sampled a fry. “Okay,

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