hand, which
amazed her every time. It was as if he could transfer all his love,
strength and confidence to her.
After a turn onto Main Street and past a
handful of shops, the lights of Ed’s Burger Joint appeared.
“ That must be it.” Peter
approached the old-fashioned drive up. A handful of cars occupied
spots, each with food trays attached to their windows.
“ Yep.” Libby
nodded.
“ This is going to be fun.”
Peter pulled into the lot and parked farthest from the restaurant
and the bulk of the other cars.
After checking out the menu, Peter placed
their order through a little metal box with a crackly speaker.
“ Get cheese curds too,”
Libby added.
Peter gave her a crooked look. “It’s a
Wisconsin thing, right?”
“ Oh yeah.”
They sat in the Jeep and talked about
everything and nothing at all, oblivious to the other cars. When
the food arrived, the twenty-something waitress looked twice at
Peter, but said nothing. As she walked away, she glanced back at
him and then Libby, obviously weighing the likelihood of the
recognized face belonging to the real Peter Jamieson.
“ People don’t expect to see
me, so they don’t.”
Peter was here to see Libby and she wanted
everyone in town to know it, but she didn’t want to share him
either. She coveted their every moment.
Together they stuffed themselves with good
ole greasy food until Libby thought she’d burst. She couldn’t
remember the last time she ate out.
“ So you aren’t one of those
girls who barely eats on a date?”
“ Why wouldn’t I eat?” She
sucked the last of her chocolate malt from the bottom of the glass,
creating a hollow suction sound with her straw.
Peter laughed. “I don’t know, I guess some
girls don’t want guys to see them in their natural habitat.”
Libby stirred the straw around the glass,
scooting the last bits of malt together. “I love food.” She handed
the empty glass back for him to place on the tray.
“ Where to next?” Peter
asked.
“ First, the waitress needs
to come get the tray off the side of the door. Otherwise, I
guarantee you will be noticed driving down the street with a food
tray hanging on your window.”
“ Oh yeah, guess I missed
that little detail.”
His brief look of embarrassment warmed her
heart. The world traveler, Peter Jamieson, didn’t know how to do a
drive-up restaurant. “Start the car or turn your lights on. She’ll
come.”
Peter started the Jeep; the powerful engine
hummed. Within a couple minutes the waitress returned for their
tray. As she lifted it from the window, she eyed Peter again.
“ You wouldn’t happen to be
. . .”
“ Nope.” Peter interrupted,
then flashed her his famous smile as he put the Jeep in
reverse.
The waitress stepped out of the way. Libby
saw her glance down at the tray and see the twenty-dollar tip. She
looked up at him, her face more confused than ever. Peter backed up
and then pulled onto Main Street.
“ So which direction is the
Trivoli?”
“ We’re going to a movie?”
Libby hadn’t seen a movie in ages.
“ Of course, it wouldn’t be
a proper date if we didn’t have dinner and a movie.”
Libby couldn’t have asked for a more perfect
night. She directed him further down Main. They had a half hour
before the show started, so Peter parked and they wandered along
the river.
“ So how did you convince
your parents to let you come?” She looped her arm around
his.
“ I held them at gun point,”
he said with a straight face.
“ No really?” She poked him
in the arm.
“ It wasn’t hard at all . .
. considering it’s my eighteenth birthday.”
Libby stopped. “It’s your birthday? When?”
She faced him and blocked his path.
“ Today.”
“ You jerk, you didn’t tell
me.” She grabbed the front of his leather jacket and tried to give
him a good shake; he laughed at her.
“ What was I supposed to
say? It’s my birthday, so you have to be really nice to me and bake
me a cake?”
“ Yes, that’s
amazed her every time. It was as if he could transfer all his love,
strength and confidence to her.
After a turn onto Main Street and past a
handful of shops, the lights of Ed’s Burger Joint appeared.
“ That must be it.” Peter
approached the old-fashioned drive up. A handful of cars occupied
spots, each with food trays attached to their windows.
“ Yep.” Libby
nodded.
“ This is going to be fun.”
Peter pulled into the lot and parked farthest from the restaurant
and the bulk of the other cars.
After checking out the menu, Peter placed
their order through a little metal box with a crackly speaker.
“ Get cheese curds too,”
Libby added.
Peter gave her a crooked look. “It’s a
Wisconsin thing, right?”
“ Oh yeah.”
They sat in the Jeep and talked about
everything and nothing at all, oblivious to the other cars. When
the food arrived, the twenty-something waitress looked twice at
Peter, but said nothing. As she walked away, she glanced back at
him and then Libby, obviously weighing the likelihood of the
recognized face belonging to the real Peter Jamieson.
“ People don’t expect to see
me, so they don’t.”
Peter was here to see Libby and she wanted
everyone in town to know it, but she didn’t want to share him
either. She coveted their every moment.
Together they stuffed themselves with good
ole greasy food until Libby thought she’d burst. She couldn’t
remember the last time she ate out.
“ So you aren’t one of those
girls who barely eats on a date?”
“ Why wouldn’t I eat?” She
sucked the last of her chocolate malt from the bottom of the glass,
creating a hollow suction sound with her straw.
Peter laughed. “I don’t know, I guess some
girls don’t want guys to see them in their natural habitat.”
Libby stirred the straw around the glass,
scooting the last bits of malt together. “I love food.” She handed
the empty glass back for him to place on the tray.
“ Where to next?” Peter
asked.
“ First, the waitress needs
to come get the tray off the side of the door. Otherwise, I
guarantee you will be noticed driving down the street with a food
tray hanging on your window.”
“ Oh yeah, guess I missed
that little detail.”
His brief look of embarrassment warmed her
heart. The world traveler, Peter Jamieson, didn’t know how to do a
drive-up restaurant. “Start the car or turn your lights on. She’ll
come.”
Peter started the Jeep; the powerful engine
hummed. Within a couple minutes the waitress returned for their
tray. As she lifted it from the window, she eyed Peter again.
“ You wouldn’t happen to be
. . .”
“ Nope.” Peter interrupted,
then flashed her his famous smile as he put the Jeep in
reverse.
The waitress stepped out of the way. Libby
saw her glance down at the tray and see the twenty-dollar tip. She
looked up at him, her face more confused than ever. Peter backed up
and then pulled onto Main Street.
“ So which direction is the
Trivoli?”
“ We’re going to a movie?”
Libby hadn’t seen a movie in ages.
“ Of course, it wouldn’t be
a proper date if we didn’t have dinner and a movie.”
Libby couldn’t have asked for a more perfect
night. She directed him further down Main. They had a half hour
before the show started, so Peter parked and they wandered along
the river.
“ So how did you convince
your parents to let you come?” She looped her arm around
his.
“ I held them at gun point,”
he said with a straight face.
“ No really?” She poked him
in the arm.
“ It wasn’t hard at all . .
. considering it’s my eighteenth birthday.”
Libby stopped. “It’s your birthday? When?”
She faced him and blocked his path.
“ Today.”
“ You jerk, you didn’t tell
me.” She grabbed the front of his leather jacket and tried to give
him a good shake; he laughed at her.
“ What was I supposed to
say? It’s my birthday, so you have to be really nice to me and bake
me a cake?”
“ Yes, that’s
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