Pops' Diner, an Anthology [A Pops' Girls Anthology]

by Laura Hamby, Meg Allison, Shara Jones

  With a wink, he nodded his balding head to indicate a man who sat across the diner.

  A man. Huh. He was just a man like Adonis was a cute little Greek boy.

  Her girlhood ideal. World-traveling journalist. Hometown golden boy.

  Kendall Reed.

  His dark brown hair, shot with the teeniest bit of silver at the temples and groomed to a tee, could only be a product of salon created perfection. His clothing screamed I'm expensive designer-wear, slumming as casual wear.

  Tamryn lifted on tiptoe to scan the parking area. Through the diner's front windows she could see, parked well away from the other less impressive array of townsfolk vehicles, a gleaming, black convertible road-monster of a sports car.

  Not much left of the Glen Meadow country boy. The man had become one hundred percent townie. What a shame. Still, underneath all that studied casualness, there lurked one excellent specimen of a man. Not fair that he should also be equipped with drool-inspiring deep, green, eyes.

  She already knew his eyes were drool-worthy because he stared at her with the precision of a laser, which made her hope she'd worn her cutest undies today. Tamryn stared back, torn between irritation at his rudeness, and a little thrilled at his obvious, albeit objectifying, interest. Right up until the time she noticed him fish eyeglasses from his shirt pocket.

  She mentally thumped her forehead and slumped against the counter as she continued to watch him.

  "I got my degree so I could use it here, in Glen Meadow. I'm not missing a thing. I guess he's back in town to settle his mother's estate. Too bad he didn't get here before Sada Mae passed on.” Tamryn looked around Pops’ massive bulk to spy his wife, affectionately known to all as Momma.

  "Handsome, isn't he? It's a right shame that such a sad time should bring him back to town. He stayed gone a long time, traveling overseas as a reporter. Sada Mae never begrudged him that, and neither should you. Get him a refill, hon.” Momma flapped her never-still hands at Tamryn to shoo her in the man's direction.

  Tamryn didn't begrudge Kendall his adventures. She just fancied she could see past the glamour and flash that dressed Kendall now. Over the years, it seemed that his internal flame burned a bit lower each time she saw him, until the last time nearly ended their friendship.

  That had been three years ago. Fresh from earning her journalism degree, Tamryn had been excited and bursting with reporting fever. On a brief and rare trip home, Kendall had unleashed some of his years of nightmarish reporting trials on her and shunned her advances to comfort him.

  He'd called her an idealistic baby as he'd walked away and left her with bitter vitriol ringing in her ears. He'd told her to stay in Glen Meadow and be happy reporting on local picnics and school board issues.

  Although she had been hurt, and she hurt for Kendall, she had been happy. If Pops’ Diner was the heartbeat of the community, then the Bugle was the pulse.

  But now, Dwight and Maribelle Lister were poised to sell the Bugle and begin their retirement in earnest. When news of Kendall's arrival in town circulated, Tamryn knew the timing couldn't have been better. Kendall Reed might be her best source, if only she could convince him to throw in with her to save the paper.

  Sada Mae would always say that staying to run the family farm hadn't been in the cards for Kendall. His calling needed a bigger setting than Glen Meadow, Iowa could provide for the present. But someday, he'd return to Glen Meadow to bring his knowledge home and use it for the good of the community.

  As personally painful as Kendall's return home had been for Tamryn, she would bury the hurt he'd left her with, and exert every bit of her will and wiles, if need be, to elicit his help. He'd never know he'd broken her heart.

  Tamryn's hope flared higher. Her steps quickened as she considered her conversational gambit. Never a shy girl, she prepared to jump into the fray and renew their acquaintance.

  But first, Tamryn stopped first by the usual table of the redoubtable elderly sisters, Sissy Peters and Sissy Hobart. “More coffee, ladies? I'm armed with a fresh pot."

  "No, dear. Sissy and I are just fine, but Kendall Reed over there looks to needing a refresh. Handsome, but oh, look. Only coffee? He also needs a menu, hon. He'll need some fruit for breakfast. Recommend the prunes, dear.” Sissy Peters tutted to her sister as she sent Tamryn on her way.

  Tamryn stifled a grin. Well, if Mr. Townie didn't want to be sociable in spite of her best efforts, she could always use the secret weapon she had in Sissy Peters. The woman's predilection for vegetables caused her to push and cajole massive quantities on everyone she met, which could be an awesome thing to behold. Less so, if you were the unfortunate person caught in her sights. Woe betide Sada Mae's boy if he'd forgotten.

  Her right hip lined up with his left shoulder when she glided to a halt beside him and peered down at the journal page that held his attention. With a deep breath, she began. “Coffee?” Her natural smile slid across her face.

  He slammed the journal closed and shot a hard-eyed stare up at her.

  Keeping her expression guileless, she lifted the coffee carafe and favored him with a bright expression. He wasn't going to make this easy.

  "Welcome home, City Boy."

  * * * *

  Kendall Reed stared at the source of his distraction. Tamryn Miller, abandoned by her free-living parents into the care of her elderly grandmother, Ma Baxter, only to become his constant shadow throughout his teenage years.

  Tamryn had been a scrawny, inquisitive scrapper. On his return three years ago, he'd found her no longer scrawny as her lush curves showed, but a fresh-faced brunette beauty. And, very undeserving of the torrent of slashing bitterness he'd unleashed on her.

  Her soft, floral scent reached his nostrils, as did the aromatic brew in her coffee carafe. The aromas commingled to ignite a feeling inside him he couldn't place, except it almost felt like a longing or homesickness. A deep want that he'd had for a long time.

  Ridiculous.

  "Welcome back is more fitting. Fill it.” He tempered his words to soften the delivery, even though he wanted to rage at the fates. The last person in the world he'd ever want to hurt was the girl who stood beside him. Rather, she was the last person he'd ever want to hurt again. And yet, he'd been in town long enough to know she would approach him soon. “Still working a dozen odd jobs, Tam? Aren't you ever still?"

  "I like working. I keep close to the news this way. I hear things. See things. I couldn't help noticing your photos."

  He almost winced as her soft voice slid over his senses. He wanted to inch away from her nearness, but that seemed cowardly. Trouble. The female spelled trouble, and that's the last thing he needed now. He had enough issues to deal with.

  Foremost, his problems revolved around his imposed sense of obligation to the town of Glen Meadow. If he knew anything, he knew the town expected him to stay put and run the Bugle. But what he wanted was to be free of days spent chronicling politics, death, and inhumanities. He needed a change.

  He had come home to settle his mother's affairs and to see about a career change into photography. He hadn't spent years in war zones, surrounded by death and heart-pounding adrenaline rushes, only to be forced into a further death of his spirit by covering news for the Glen Meadow Bugle.

  He leaned back in his chair and regarded the slender woman decked out in the requisite yellow Pops emblazoned t-shirt and denim shorts that revealed her long, smooth legs. “I think you could help it. But in typical Tamryn style, you didn't bother to try.” He kept his voice low, but his rebuttal came through clearly, as he waited for a soft tinge of pink to rise across her smooth cheeks.

  Which didn't happen.

  Tamryn slid into the chair opposite him and graced him with a dimpling smile, instead of retiring from the field in defeat or embarrassment.

  "You're right. I could have, but I didn't want to. Your wildflower photo is amazing. Your mama, God rest her, probably told you that I've been working at the Bugle since I graduated. We have something in
common."

  Her words settled over him like a blanket, smothering and unwelcome.

  "I'm sorry to disagree. We don't have anything in common due to the fact that I'm no longer a news reporter, and hope to never be again."

  "Kendall, you know you're the person to help save the Bugle.” Tamryn's voice never wavered and her concentrated stare never dropped.

  "How, Tam? Buy it? Bury myself here? I just want to come home and forget. I want to build a new career. I want—well, that's not important. This isn't my problem. I hope you solve it.” He felt a sharp pang of bitterness and didn't bother to spare his childhood friend from his foul temper. “Two eggs over easy, two strips of bacon. Keep the coffee coming."

  He watched under hooded lids as her lips tightened while her brows rose. He'd intended to terminate the conversation, but now it seemed like he'd just kicked a puppy down a well. Still, his hand hovered over his journal and he lifted an eyebrow in question.

  "I plan to solve it, but I need your help, Kendall."

  "I can't help you, Tamryn. I couldn't help you when your parents died, or when Ma Baxter died, and I can't help you now.” Kendall felt his bitterness curl and writhe inside him.

  "You helped. More than you'll probably ever know. And you can help me now. I need to save the paper. I need the paper. I want you to help me come up with a solution."

  "Do I look like I have any solutions? I don't even have a solution for my life, much less anyone else's.” He cursed silently. More strangling ties when he just wanted to be free.

  "I'm throwing myself on the sacrificial altar of our former friendship, and begging you to help me. Idealistic baby that I am, I know this is a worthwhile pursuit. Don't let your weariness and disillusionment affect your judgment."

  Kendall watched her face as she let the honest and direct words fall between them. She held his gaze with her own. Simple, straightforward, Tamryn; after all these years, there still didn't seem to be a single drop of guile or disingenuousness about her. Mischief, yes, but never anything hurtful.

  Which made the sour-tasting self-loathing rise higher, knowing that he had the power to help her, but instead, had decided not too. It was his time, dammit.

  "Sorry, Tam. I don't want to be involved with any aspect. Looks like you're on your own.” He saw a quick flash of pain on her face as the brutality of his thoughtless words registered.

  "I've been on my own for a long time, Kendall. That's not a new situation for me. Sure you won't reconsider?"

  "Not a chance, I'm afraid. Although, I must admit that I've enjoyed your company while you tried to convince me. Not quite the runt kid anymore. A beautiful woman. But, I'm still not changing my mind, Tam. Now, run along and get my breakfast."

  She regarded him for a long moment, before a sparkle shone in her chocolate brown eyes and a Sphinx-like smile curved her soft, rosy lips. “Fine. I'll go get your breakfast."

  His groin tightened in response to her mischievous smile, although he felt he'd just committed a serious tactical error. A long-forgotten memory tickled his brain, but slid away like silk over smooth skin.

  He tracked her steps back towards the table where the two elderly ladies reigned. He watched as she tested his resistance. A saucy, pointed stare over her shoulder made his brain cells react and he ran a catalog of the town inhabitants through in his memory banks. A niggling recollection twisted, but didn't reveal itself.

  With an almost imperceptible shrug, Tamryn turned her attention to the old dears. From his vantage point, he watched her lips move in reply to something one of the ladies asked.

  His insides clenched when subjected to a trio of stares from the women. His focus narrowed and an instant too late, the memory returned as he watched her exquisite lips form the words—no vegetables.

  Damn. The sisters, Peters and Hobart!

  Round one to his goddess waitress.

  "Good morning, Sissy Hobart.” Kendall nodded, as he strode up to the ladies’ table. With a slight bow that he hoped was urbane and charming, he addressed his other adversary. “And to you, Sissy Peters. I wonder if you remember me. I'm Kendall Reed. Of course, the reason that I didn't have any vegetables with my breakfast order, is that I wanted to be sure to save room for the daily fruit special.” He reached out and lightly squeezed the elbow of his sassy brunette waitress in a gentle warning.

  "Oh, we remember you and your dear mother. Such a shame, but oh, wouldn't she be pleased that you're eating right.” The sisters beamed.

  "You want the daily fruit special?” Tamryn's right eyebrow lifted as her voice rose in disbelief.

  "Yeah, and make it a double order. I'm really hungry this morning. It's been lovely to see you ladies again.” He sketched a salute towards the sisters. His grin towards the young woman faded a bit when he saw the tapping movement of her pencil against her order pad slow down. The cool look leveled at him should have warned him, but he decided to bluff it out and return to his table. He'd done damage control and would just suffer the likely unwanted blue-plate berry blitz he'd just unleashed.

  His steps almost stuttered when he heard Tamryn's soft voice behind him.

  "A blue plate double order of freshly stewed prunes, coming up!"

  Round two to his damned goddess waitress, as well.

  "Let me refresh your coffee, first,” Tamryn said as he regained his seat. “And you know, they will sit there until you eat every single bite of those stewed prunes. Unless,” she said, her sentence trailed off, heavy with meaning.

  "You won't change my mind, but I'm not opposed to inhaling more of your perfume while you try,” he remarked. He already knew he wouldn't relent, but Tamryn had determined to try judging by the speculative look in her dark eyes.

  "I want to work at the newspaper. With you. Stay, Kendall."

  "I'd rather eat the prunes."

  "I can assure you that you'll have to do just that."

  "I've told you that I'm done with the newspaper business. I just want to take care of my mother's details, and pursue a different career. I'm not interested."

  "What do you mean? Your business is Glen Meadow,” Tamryn said with laugh and a shake of her head. “Just help me think of a way to keep the paper going. Ask around and you'll find that I have had a hand in all aspects of running the Bugle. I know everyone. I can do whatever needs doing in the office, from answering phones to typesetting. Maybe I could do some stories that feature your wildflower photos and other shots.” Her golden voice cajoled, but the mention of his photographic efforts scorched his insides.

  "I'll take those prunes now.” He heard the harsh timbre in his voice and saw the shock freeze her facial muscles before a different look replaced it.

  Round three to him, but if the look on Tamryn's face was an indication, he'd bet the family farm that she planned to win the war.

  He watched her long-legged stride across the diner. Her rounded hips swished and his senses were fully engaged. My, how his little shadow had matured.

  He knew the town expected him to fall in with their plan to stay in town and run the newspaper. He'd dreamed of coming home again, almost as soon as he'd left years ago. He'd envisioned coming back as a success and a credit to his family. Instead, he'd returned as a burned out stranger, too late to even bury the woman who had believed in him when he'd lost all faith in himself, and in humanity.

  He shifted in his seat when Tamryn sashayed past to another table. Like a fool, he'd even imagined coming home to Tamryn. Just what she needed—a burned out newspaperman, who'd come back to a town he didn't want to be in. He just didn't have the energy to go somewhere else.

  No, he didn't plan to give in to Tamryn. He couldn't afford to have Tamryn Miller get under his skin. Get things taken care of, and get on with his photography, and stay out of her life. That was the sum total of his life plan.

  Kendall checked his wristwatch and noted that he had an hour before his appointment with his late mother's attorney, Mark Wells. The urgency in the attorney's voice grated on him, and set
his nerves on edge. Kendall's brow scrunched in frown lines. His hunch told him that if he hadn't already planned to sell the family farm, he'd bet that dirt field that Mark's news would set him back on his heels.

  Tamryn placed his plate of eggs and bacon under his nose and plunked a huge dish of stewed prunes alongside with a flourish. “I haven't given up. Eat hearty."

  "Being a pest is one of your less admirable traits,” he said as he checked his watch again and pushed his journal aside to make more room while he ate. Still plenty of time to endure his waitress's overly sweet inquiries about his coffee refills, and to enjoy the sight of her enticing, swinging walk.

  With a mock salute of his coffee cup, he toasted her retreating figure.

  Let the games begin.

  CHAPTER TWO

  "Being a pest. He hasn't begun to see my pesty side,” Tamryn lifted another plastic forkful of peach cobbler to her mouth. With a quick dab of her napkin against her lips, she imagined wiping the smirk from Kendall Reed's face. She sat on the hood of her dusty red Mustang convertible while she mulled over her run-in with the most obstinate newspaperman in the business.

  Well, former newspaperman, although she didn't quite believe the former part of it. How could it be? Once a newsy, always a newsy. With a shake of her head, she dismissed his claims as bogus and settled in to devise a plan to get Kendall to listen to reason.

  "Aw, now there, Tam. How's it look for you to be sitting under a shade tree outside my brand new restaurant, eating cobbler from somewhere else? Say, is that Pops’ cobbler? Got anymore?"

  Tamryn licked the bottom side of her fork and gave a big smack of her lips. “Now, Darren Wayne, you're supposed to be luring me in with tempting treats off your extensive menu.” Tamryn slid from the hood and patted a hand across her behind to remove the dust. She strolled up to the portly restaurant proprietor and linked arms with him while she tried to ignore the sizeable area of pink scalp that seemed to grow through his sparse blonde hair. She tugged him towards the front door, painted to proclaim Darren's Dinerama and Emporium in bright, green lettering.