Chapter Twenty

As they pulled into Forks Harold was in the mood for what he considered traditional American diner food, burgers, fries and a milkshake.  There were only a few restaurants in town and none seemed to fit the bill until almost at the end of town he saw Sully’s Drive In.  Pulling into the parking lot Josephine wrinkled her nose.   

“Ugh, I can smell the grease they cook with.”

Harold smiled a purposely content smile, “Mmmm…like the road side cafes in England.  Here’s the keys.  You drive around or walk around town, do some shopping, maybe find a laundromat we could use.”   

“We?!?” Josephine looked at Harold as if he’d just told her she was the most repulsive woman he’d ever met.  “What about you?  Your duffel bag smells of human sweat and wet dog!”

“Sorry about that. But some of the stuff in your backpack smells of mold.  You’ve not cleaned your clothes or let them dry out after we’ve been in the forest.  There’s mildew growing in that backpack.”  Josephine snatched the keys out of Harold’s hand.   

“Go choke on a burger.  When you’re done let’s see if your sense of smell can find me in town.”   

Harold got out and heard Josephine yank the driver side door shut behind him with a loud clang.    

The diner was just as he expected it to be.  The smells, the people, the conversations, the style of the place.  Harold felt like he fit in a little more than he had at the lodge.  No one had a sports coat like him, but his long hair, beard, jeans, boots and build were something the locals were familiar with.  The waitress came over with a glass and a pitcher of water.  Filling it up the glass, she smiled at Harold.   

“Some coffee to get you started hon?” she asked.  She was wearing a checkered apron with a name tag reading, ‘Kelli’.   

“Yes, that would be very nice.  Some milk and sugar with it please.”   

“Sure thing.”  She seemed surprised and pleased to find he was English.  After he’d ordered a bacon burger, large fries and a blackberry milkshake she asked him, “You going to be in town for a while hon?”  Her smile indicated she hoped the answer was yes.  She was in her early twenties, had the smell of a young girl on her, but no man.  Single mother and here Harold was, a reasonably handsome, burly Englishman.  He wasn’t a bad catch in this town.  

“For a couple of weeks I think.”

“You doing some hunting, fishing, camping or just enjoying the chance to get away from things for a while?” Harold smiled at the waitress, “With the exception of fishing, all of the above.”  

Another customer was calling to Kelli so she quickly gave Harold a warm smile and said, “Well, I hope to see you around while you’re here.” She hurried off to attend to the other customers.  Harold watched her walk off.  His people didn’t often involve themselves socially with earðkinar but Harold found himself wondering what it would be like to date an earðkinar woman.  He looked out the window and shook his head.  What was he thinking?  That would be foolish for so many reasons.  Still, if they were going to be in town for a couple of weeks, and if she were amicable to the idea, a fling might be a good idea.  It would perhaps clear his mind of some of the more unsettling thoughts he’d had of Josephine.   

Kelli came by after a couple of minutes with a mug, small metal pitcher of milk and a coffee pot.  She poured Harold a cup and asked, “So you’re from England? Where in England?”

“Oh, my family’s from a small village northeast of London called Bardfield Saling.”  Bardfield Saling was closer to Colchester than London, but Harold had learned decades ago that few people in America knew of any English city but London.   

“So what brings you out to Forks, besides our reputation for great weather?”  She asked as if talking with someone she knew and shared an inside joke.  Harold chuckled a little.   

“I actually quite like this weather.  It’s not that dissimilar from England.  In fact, we have a joke about it.  We get our tans from standing in the English rain.”  Kelli laughed out loud.

“The rust must be pretty bad.  Your hair’s gone red too.”  Harold smiled.  He’d told that joke to others before and they’d taken a few seconds to get it.  The cook rang his bell and shouted, “Order up! Bacon burger. Fries.”  

“Oh. I’ll be right back with your order…?” Kelli looked at Harold with an expectant face.  

“Harold, Harold Sigbert.”  Kelli hurried off and was back quickly with Harold’s burger, fries, shake and ketchup.   

“Thank you Kelli.  You wouldn’t by chance have any malt vinegar would you?”  Kelli smiled like she’d just found something new and interesting.  

“Malt vinegar?  Is that what they use instead of ketchup in England?”  Harold shook his head slightly.  

“No.  It’s in addition to the ketchup and it’s for my chips. French fries.”  

“Sorry Harold.  No malt vinegar.  But if you come by for lunch tomorrow there might be some.”  Kelli walked off to take care of some other customers.   Harold started to think what he could have Josephine do tomorrow around lunch time.  The burger, fries and blackberry shake were in Harold’s opinion, just as they should be.  Kelli came by his table frequently to top up his coffee.  Harold never got more than an inch down from the lip of the mug.  When he was done Kelli came by to take his plate and asked,  

“So, no malt vinegar but still pretty good?”  She put the bill on the table and pushed it toward his hand resting next to the plate.  

“Very good.  Good enough for a return visit.” Kelli didn’t say anything in return, she just smiled over her shoulder as she walked away.  

Harold put a $50 on the table and walked out.  As he walked past the windows he glanced in and saw Kelli holding the $50 and looking at him.  He waved nonchalantly.   

Harold felt quite pleased with himself.  He’d flirted with a waitress, she’d flirted with him and there was no Josephine skewing the situation with her beauty and overly attractive pheromones.  Thinking of Josephine, Harold walked to where the SUV had been and breathed in through his nose.  He had the scent.  Time to find out where his partner had gone.