On Ice by J. D. Faver

children in tow, followed the caravan to the small cafe on the corner across from the grocery store. She felt elated to have accomplished so much and in particular to be in the company of such positive people. Perhaps she had made the right decision in coming here. Perhaps the sad, frightened times were behind them.
    A bell clanked when they entered the cafe. The aroma of strong foods mingled with stale cooking grease. The decor was plain but cheery. Father Paul and Frenchy pushed several small tables together and held chairs for the ladies.
    “ I brought you some catalogs.” Cindy deposited an armload on the table. “Take good care of them. They're worth their weight in gold.”
    “ I promise,” Rene vowed.
    “ You can order online or by mail and then you’re on the mailing list.”
    “ We need some things at the cabin.” Rene pounced on one of the catalogs.
    A very attractive woman came out to take their orders. She had dark auburn hair and large, warm brown eyes. A single dimple graced one cheek when she smiled. Her ample figure, more voluptuous than plump, swayed as she walked with a suggestive, hip-rolling gait. Rene guessed she was nearing forty. She noted that every man watched the woman approach.
    “ Hi, Father Paul.” The woman stopped at his chair and gave him the benefit of her twinkling gaze.
    “ Now, Honeybee, you promised not to tempt me,” he said. “I have taken a vow of celibacy, after all.”
    “ I'm just doing my part to insure your sainthood, Father,” she purred, her voice like velvet. “What's going on? I don't usually have a lunch rush this late.”
    “ We cleaned the school for class on Monday,” Nadine said. “This is Rene, the new teacher. I'll have a chili burger with fried onion rings.”
    “ Ugh!” Cindy held her protruding belly. “I'll have a chicken salad sandwich on wheat toast and a vanilla milkshake. Honeybee makes the world's best milkshakes.”
    Father Paul and Frenchy ordered the daily special while Hank chose a cheeseburger before unfolding the weekly newspaper and burying himself behind it.
    “ That just leaves you, Sweetie.” Honeybee stood at Rene's shoulder, pad and pencil poised in her hands.
    Rene considered a moment. “How about three cheeseburgers with a large order of French-fries and vanilla shakes all around?” Honeybee ambled to the kitchen as Rene met the children’s surprised gaze. “If you can't beat 'em, you might as well join 'em.”
    “ What does that mean, Mommy?” Sara asked.
    “ It means I'm adapting to Sad Horse.” She looked around the table, smiling at her new acquaintances. “I've resigned myself to my fate. I will probably weigh two hundred pounds before Christmas.”
    “ You made the paper, Rene,” Bernie held the newspaper close to his face, reading it with interest.
    “ What do you mean?” She tried to squelch the bile rising from the pit of her stomach.
    “ It's an article about you.” He folded the paper and passed it to her.
    She read the story by Roger Dale. It listed her assumed name and the name and ages of her children, where they were living, that she had signed a one-year contract to teach in the all-levels classroom, and that she was a widow.
    “ That little weasel!” she said through clenched teeth.
    Nadine rolled her eyes. “She must be referring to our Roger.”
    “ Roger Dale is pond scum,” Cindy added. “Everyone knows that. You had to learn it the hard way. Did he write something stupid?”
    Rene tried to control her breathing. She hadn't given the interview. So, who did?
    “ Rene, you look white as a sheet,” Cindy said.
    “ Just forget it.” Hank said. “He didn't say anything bad about you.”
    “ Besides,” said Father Paul, “our food is here and we don't want to hurt Honeybee's feelings. She's very sensitive.”
    Honeybee laughed heartily as she set his plate before him.
    In spite of her inner turmoil, Rene enjoyed the meal. The food was surprisingly good and the company delightful.