Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
And though I see a cat climbing structure against one wall and several water bowls by the door, there don’t appear to be any other animals in the house tonight, aside from an ancient hound dog asleep by a rocking chair in one corner. But he’s wearing a leash that’s looped around the wrist of his equally sleepy owner, making me feel safe enough to follow Binx down to the empty end of the bar.
“Yeah, Baldy, we missed you,” a giant man in a gray flannel says as we pass his stool, offering Binx a fist to bump. “I haven’t had a decent dart game in ages. People around here can’t see straight, let alone shoot straight.”
“I heard that.” Another man, as narrow as Flannel Guy is wide, pipes up from his place a few stools closer to the door. “And I’ll remember it next time you beg me to play, asshole.”
“Now, now, watch your language,” Bettie says, still beaming as she leans over the bar to pull Binx in for a big hug. “Oh, sugar, it’s so good to see you.” She draws back, running a fond hand over Binx’s spiky hair, a shine in her eyes. “You’re just our miracle worker, that’s it. No other word for it.”
Red spots rise on Binx’s cheeks as she pulls back with a wave of her hand. “Don’t start, Bettie. It wasn’t a big deal. I’m just glad Sprout got the help she needs. That’s all the matters.”
Bettie’s focus shifts my way. “I bet she didn’t tell you, did she? That she pretty much single-handedly raised the money for my grandbaby’s surgery? Sprout got her implants last month and heard music for the first time right here in the bar.” She motions toward the jukebox. “We put on Blue Moon and she danced and danced. The awe on her face…” Bettie presses a hand to her chest, clearly working through a wave of emotion. “Well, that’s something I’ll never forget, that’s for sure. One of the best moments of my life.” Pulling herself together, she claps her ringed hands. “So, what’ll you have? Drinks for you and your friend are on me.” Glancing back to me, she extends her tiny fingers. “I’m Bettie by the way, darlin. We haven’t been properly introduced.”
“Tessa,” I say, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I can’t believe I’ve never heard about your place. It’s the cutest.”
Bettie beams. “Thank you so much. We’re not the fanciest place in town, but when you’re here, you’re family.” She leans down, grinning at Freya. “And so are your critters. What’s this lovely lady’s name?”
“That’s Freya,” Binx cuts in, “and I’m paying for drinks, Bettie. I told you, you don’t owe me anything. I don’t want things to be weird.”
“Things aren’t weird,” Bettie says, cooing as Freya rubs against her scratching fingers. “Now, sit your bootie down and accept your free drink without being a pain in my backside.”
“Yeah,” Flannel Guy says. “And I’m buying your second round.” He tips his beer my way as he explains, “Sprout’s my niece. Sweetest kid in the world.”
Binx grumbles but settles into a stool at the back of the bar, not far from the cat climbing structure. I’m debating whether or not it’s safe for Freya to explore the environment with her leash on when Bettie appears with two waters and whispers, “Go ahead and let her off the lead. It’s only Old Blue in here tonight and he doesn’t have the energy to chase after anything anymore.”
“Thanks,” I say, unclipping the leash from Freya’s harness and freeing my eagerly squirming girl to play. “She loves exploring things like this,” I add, laughing as she slithers into a tiny hole at the bottom only to poke her nose out a hole near the top a second later.
“Well, of course,” Bettie says. “Who wouldn’t? I’m coming back as a pet in my next life. No doubt about that. So, what can I get ya?”
“I’ll have a Doris Day,” Binx says, before turning to me. “It’s champagne, pomegranate juice, winter citrus spray, mint, and some kind of orange liqueur Bettie keeps hidden under the bar. So fresh and fabulous.”
I hum in anticipation. “That sounds amazing. I’ll have one, too.”
“Coming right up.” Bettie sets a 3D card menu with a martini glass popping out in the middle of it between us on the bar. “But be sure to check out the rest of the drinks, too. We have a lot of fun stuff this spring.”
“She rotates the menu seasonally,” Binx explains as Bettie fetches her cocktail shaker. “But the drinks are always named after famous people from the 1950s. It’s pretty cute.”
“This whole place is cute,” I say, smiling as I spot a row of felt jackalope heads mounted about the liquor display. “Definitely a case of the insides not matching the outsides.”