Emma wrapped the heavy, wool cardigan tighter around her torso. It was the first day of spring, but the wind chill was below freezing. Typical weather in Michigan. She had often heard people saying that if you don’t like the weather then just wait a few minutes because it will change. Maybe there wouldn’t be many food trucks willing to brave the cold weather. During the previous summer the park had drawn over a dozen food trucks that set up shop every weekday. People from the artists’ colony where she and Daisy lived, as well as workers from all of the nearby office buildings, flocked to the green oasis in the middle of Bartonville’s business district at lunch time. Recently fliers had been circulating around the neighborhood announcing that the Fulton Park Food Truck Court would open on the first day of spring. Rain or shine.
Emma’s eyes watered from the frigid assault. She wiped cold tears from her cheeks with the back of her mitten. “Thanks for letting me borrow your sweater. I’d be a popsicle without it.”
“No problem.” Daisy tugged her fuzzy pink hat down over her ears. “It’s made with Merino wool, so it should keep you pretty warm.”
They turned the corner. Over half a dozen brightly-colored food trucks were parked along the edge of the street in front of them. More than she had expected on such a blustery day.
“It looks like quite a few trucks are here,” Daisy said as they crossed the intersection. “I hope that one that made the BLT sliders last year is back.”
Frequent menu changes were common among the mobile restaurants. Quite a few of the chefs tailored their offerings based on whatever they found interesting at the market that morning. Chalk and white boards, as well as laminated print outs, were used to display many of the trucks’ offerings for the day.
“Why don’t we take our food back to my apartment?” Emma asked as she stopped in front of a dark blue truck that she didn’t remember seeing the previous summer. Many of the food trucks looked like they had stepped off the pages of a comic book. Bold colors and quirky images, like winged pigs or carrot-wielding ninjas, were common. The Sandwich Emporium was different. The name was rendered in an old-fashioned script font painted in gold that made the truck look stately and sophisticated. Ornate, gilt picture frames attached to the side of the truck displayed the menu options. They offered six sandwiches and two soups along with a choice of two, flavored iced teas. “If we try to eat here the food will get cold before we’re done.”
“Sounds like a great idea to me!” Daisy rushed past Emma. “I see a truck down there that looks interesting. I’ll meet you back here in a few minutes.”
The window of the sandwich truck slid open. A man leaned out and waved at a woman bundled in a puffy parka who was standing nearby. The guy was wearing a long-sleeved black t-shirt. The fabric clung to his well-defined chest and arm muscles. His dark, spiky hair was tousled from the wind. Emma took a deep breath. No men allowed, no matter how gorgeous they were, for at least six months. After the woman hurried away he caught Emma’s eye and grinned. “How about a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup? Better than your mama ever made. Guaranteed.”
“How do you know my mama isn’t a world-renowned chef?” she asked as she stepped up to the window.
He winked one of his beautiful, ice blue eyes. “In that case, as good as your mama made.”
“Okay, I’m sold. I’ll take a Muenster Melt and the tomato soup. To go, please.”
“Coming right up.” He nodded his head toward the left. “If you stand down at the end of the truck you’ll be out of the wind a bit.”
“Thanks. I’m starting to feel like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.”
The guy chuckled as he slid the window shut. Emma moved to the area he had directed her to. She pulled a mitten off to retrieve the money in her jeans’ pocket. The chef was adorable, but she definitely wasn’t in the market for a new man. The sting from Max’s unexpected break-up speech still throbbed. Two days was too soon to be on the prowl, even if she was only looking for a rebound boyfriend, which she definitely wasn’t. She smacked her forehead with her palm before slipping the mitten back on. Stop thinking about him. It wouldn’t be long and she would turn into her mother, indiscriminately chasing after every man who was unfortunate enough to make eye contact. How could she even remotely consider this guy after insisting to Daisy she was giving up on all men?
“Did you order?”
Emma jumped. Daisy had reappeared, apparently out of thin air. “Yes. It should be done any time now.”
On cue, the order window slid open again and the tempting sandwich maker leaned out to wave at Emma. “Your order is ready.”
She exchanged her money for a brown paper bag speckled with dark grease spots. “Thank you. Hot soup sounds wonderful today.”
The grin plastered on her face looked idiotic. She knew it. The stupid, toothy smile was an involuntary reaction whenever she spoke to a cute guy. She spun around, desperate to escape the magnetic pull of the handsome chef. Daisy yelped when Emma stepped on her toe. “Sorry. Why do you keep sneaking up on me today?”
“I’m not sneaking. You keep getting lost in Dream Land.” Daisy looked back at the blue food truck. “Or maybe it’s Sandwich Land.”
“Well, I still think you are being sneaky on purpose. If you keep scaring me I’ll make you a bracelet covered in bells so I’ll at least have a warning.”
The walk back to the artists’ colony was quiet as they both concentrated on keeping their bodies and lunches warm. Emma plugged in the electric water kettle to make hot tea as soon as they arrived in her apartment. The iced tea the sandwich truck offered sounded good, but not in the middle of a cold snap.
“Did you see his name is Brad?” Daisy asked as she arranged foam take-out containers on the coffee table while Emma tossed a couple tea bags into a simple, brown teapot.
“Who is named Brad?”
“The guy from the sandwich truck that you were making googly eyes at. He was pretty hot. Not as hot as the guy in the vegan truck, but close.” Daisy sat down on the couch and pried the lid off her soup. She sniffed it and then flipped the lid off Emma’s tomato soup and fanned the aroma toward herself. “Your soup smells better than mine.”
Emma settled onto the other end of the couch. “It’s chunky tomato. What did you get?”
“Vegan lentil with spinach and squash.” Daisy wrinkled her nose. “Kind of looks like baby shit.”
“You said it. Don’t blame me when you can’t eat it.”
Daisy closed her eyes as she tried a spoonful. “It’s pretty good. Needs some hot sauce, but not bad at all. I can eat this vegan stuff again.”
The bread of Emma’s sandwich was perfectly grilled, golden brown and crispy. The mellow muenster cheese was laced with spicy flakes of red pepper. Crunchy pickle slices, in a small condiment container, were an addicting blend of sweet and sour. The soup was warm and savory, studded with chunks of tomato and onion. She would be paying more visits to The Sandwich Emporium for the food alone.
“Why eat at the vegan truck again? You’re not even close to being a vegetarian, let alone vegan. There are plenty of other choices. I’m sure more trucks will come when the weather gets better. I would highly recommend The Sandwich Emporium.”
Daisy rolled her eyes. “I’m going back to the vegan truck for the same reason you’re going to be paying more visits to the sandwich dude. The chef is tasty.”
“It doesn’t matter how gorgeous or nice he is.” She had made up her mind and nobody was going to change it, not even Daisy and definitely not Brad. “The only thing I’ll be doing with him is ordering my lunch.”
The warm sunshine soaked into Emma’s sore shoulder muscles as she sat at the picnic table. Two gift shops had called the previous week, asking for more merchandise. The increase in sales meant she didn’t have to worry about paying the rent, but it also meant she had to spend countless hours at the workbench adorning miniature fairy doors with wreathes of tiny flowers and custom-painted welcome mats. Many of the trendy shops downtown had
installed the doors in quiet corners, where they were they could be discovered by curious children and adults. The idea of fairies living in walls often provoked squeals of delight. Apparently the fantasy appealed to a lot of people, because she could barely keep up with the orders. Lunch in the park with Daisy was a welcome break from the detailed work.
Brilliant, red tomato slices peeked out from the toasted bread on her sandwich. She took a bite and closed her eyes. The combination of mashed avocado, pickled jalapenos and juicy tomato was perfect. The Deconstructed Guacamole on whole wheat. She opened her eyes again when Daisy thumped down on the bench across from her and said, “Let me guess. You went to The Sandwich Emporium again.”
Emma wiped a crumb from the side of her mouth. “I can’t help it. Their stuff is so good.”
Daisy snickered as she stuck her spork into a falafel patty. “Yeah. Their stuff does have some of the most amazing blue eyes I have ever seen. I think most of the ladies from the bank think the same thing.” She nodded at the crowd of well-dressed women clustered around the navy blue food truck. “Look at that. He has his own harem of groupies.”
“I was talking about the sandwiches, not the guy serving them. Besides, who are you to talk? I love how you turn into a vegan Cinderella at the stroke of noon.”
Trucks were parked around the perimeter of the park while smaller, mobile carts patrolled the interior paths. The enterprising food vendors offered everything from Asian dumplings to southern barbecue. Many people went to a different truck almost every day, sampling a wide variety of tasty creations, but she and Daisy always ordered from the same trucks.
“Hey, at least I’m woman enough to admit I like the cook more than his cooking.” Daisy shoveled a spoonful of cucumber salad into her mouth. “A bit of feta cheese would make this really great, but I’m dedicated to my quest to get a date with Mr. Veggie. So what if I have to give up bacon and cheese for an hour?”
“If you want, I can order bacon on my sandwich and we’ll sneak it onto your food.”
“No way! I’m not taking the chance. What if he decides to track me down and ask me out? I don’t think it would go over well if he finds me munching on smoked piggy.” Daisy raised her eyebrows. “Speaking of getting tracked down, have you noticed Brad has been staring at you?”
Emma plucked a speck of lint off her sleeve and twisted to drop it on the ground behind her. Brad met her gaze and smiled before he disappeared into the dark interior of his truck. “No, he isn’t. He’s taking orders. It just looks like he’s looking at us. Anyway, even if he was checking us out he’d be looking at your hair instead of me.” Daisy’s beautiful, blonde hair was now streaked with wide swaths of pink, blue and green. “When you said you were getting highlights I thought you’d go with platinum blonde or auburn. What’s up with all of the different colors?”
“I refuse to take criticism about my hair color from a woman who wears fairy wings in public. I’m an artist. I live in an artists’ colony. I like color, so now I have colorful hair. Nice try at changing the subject, though.”
“You can’t change a subject when it doesn’t exist. I don’t want anything to do with Brad. Max broke up with me less than a month ago and I’m really enjoying being single.”
“Blah, blah, blah. I like being single.” Daisy stole Emma’s dill pickle spear. “Pay no attention to the fact that I’m lying.”
“I am not lying. I don’t want another relationship. I’m not my mother.”
“Oh, I get it now. We’re back to your mommy issues. Come on, you aren’t turning into your mom.”
“How can you say that?” Emma smacked her fist on the tabletop. Several people who were standing nearby looked at her. “I get panic attacks if I go longer than two weeks without a date. My entire life has been a parade of boyfriends with some horrible blind dates thrown into the intermissions for variety. Since I’ve stayed with most guys for months at a time, instead of hours or days like my mom does, I never realized how much I’m like her. I really am swearing off guys for awhile. If my love life stays on this path I might as well move back to mom’s crummy trailer house. Maybe we could start going to her favorite dives together. Can you imagine the losers the two of us could attract? The mother and daughter freak show.”
“That was an interesting scenario, but way too dramatic for me. I think you just need to raise your standards, be a little more picky about who you go out with. If you set the bar high enough you can be like me and never go out with anybody anyway. Plus, all you have to do is ask and you know I’ll tell you what I think of a guy. That way you won’t end up with any more losers, like that video game designer who lived in his parents’ basement that you told me about right after I met you. Didn’t his parents try to pay him to move out and he still wouldn’t leave?” She ducked when Emma tossed a piece of crust at her. As soon as the bread hit the ground one of the many sea gulls patrolling the area snatched it up with a victorious squawk. “Think about it. The guys running these food trucks work hard every day, they’re definitely higher up on the male evolutionary chain than subterranean dwelling mama’s boys.”
Emma removed another piece of imaginary lint. When she turned Brad was handing an order to a woman with over-processed hair that looked like straw. She was lucky one of the marauding birds hadn’t landed on her head, trying to pluck her dry locks out to make a nest. Brad lingered in the window after the woman wandered away. He caught Emma looking at him again and waved. She pivoted back around to study the topographic map of crumbs on her paper plate.
Daisy stirred her bowl of pea soup in a figure-eight pattern. “I still like my idea of critiquing each other’s potential dates, even if I never get one and you don’t want one. The Vegan Valhalla truck is on the other side of the park today. Would you mind ordering a cup of soup or something from there, so you can check out Marshall? I’d like to know what you think of him before I embarrass myself by going into full-pursuit mode.”
“I think he chats and flirts with me a bit more than with his other customers.” Daisy kicked a pebble. It skittered across the sidewalk and bounced into the grass. Why would he flirt with her when there was always a bevy of svelte yoga bunnies around his truck, munching on carrot salad and lettuce wraps? “I don’t want to get my hopes up if I’m just being delusional. Please tell me what you think.”
Emma began skipping like a little girl and chanting, “Daisy likes a boy. Daisy likes a boy.” She stopped and put her hand on Daisy’s forearm. “I’m so happy for you. I bet I can count on one hand the number of dates you’ve had in the two years we’ve known each other. I’m sure he’s already fallen madly in love with you.”
“Madly in love is a dangerous place to be if you’re too blind to see the truth.”
“What does that mean?” Emma pointed to a bench. “Let’s sit down. You are one of the most confident people I know, except when it comes to men. You’re my best friend, so can you please tell me what’s going on? Why are you so skittish about dating?”
Daisy’s feet turned to lead as she trudged to the bench. It was time to fess up to her own stupidity, like a kid admitting to her mother that she had failed an exam. She slumped onto the bench as the familiar shame sapped her energy. Emma was her best friend now and it was time to tell her the deep, dark secret.
“Three years ago I was engaged.” She wound her scarf around her wrist like a tourniquet. “Shane was my first serious boyfriend. He said he loved me and didn’t care if I had acne and no boobs. I believed him. When he asked me to marry him I was over-the-moon happy. So I put on blinders and started planning the wedding.” She sighed. That time had been like a fantastic dream and for a long time she refused to wake up from it. “All of the signs were right in front of me, but I ignored them. I lied to myself and pretended he was the perfect guy, until I found him screwing my cousin in the back of his car at my family reunion. My rebound boyfriend was the guy who fixed the brakes on my car. I’m not even going to bother describing how much of a loser he was. Obviously,
I have terrible judgment when it comes to boyfriends.”
A robin hopped around the base of a nearby tree. It cocked its head sideways like it was listening to Emma. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how much pain you went through because of those relationships. Thank you for telling me. I feel like I know you so much better now. One more piece of the Daisy puzzle is in place.”
“I figured you should know why I’m dragging you across the park to buy pickled zucchini or whatever. I don’t trust myself and I need a second opinion on Marshall.” Did he really like her or was it a case of her love-starved imagination playing tricks? Emma would let her know. She couldn’t lie even if her life depended on it. If she thought Marshall was just a cunning salesman luring in a repeat customer she’d say so. “Now let’s get this over with. I could really go for a lamb kabob, so if I’m wasting my time hanging around Vegan Valhalla you need to let me know, okay?”
Emma stood and stretched her arms over her head. “That’s the carnivore I know and love. There’s just one problem. What if I think Marshall likes you as much as you like him? How are you going to deal with this whole fake vegan thing you’ve got going?”
She was right. If he was committed enough to the dietary regimen to open a food truck that was purely vegan, not a drop of honey or shred of real cheese to be found, what would he think if she admitted to eating meat? That hurdle would only have to be jumped if they got farther than flirting through the order window. “I don’t know. I’m not going to worry about that right now. Just give me your scorchingly honest opinion. Do you think he likes me or am I just dreaming?”
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