Page 12 of Badd Baby

The blonde girl's head whips up, light brown eyes twinkling with humor. "Donkey!" She grinned at him as she finished the sandwich—which was a massive thing, a masterpiece of thick homemade wheat bread piled high with turkey, Swiss, and all the fixings—wrapped it brown parcel paper, tied it with a pre-cut length of twine, and handed it to the waiting customer with a smile and a “Thanks, come again!"

She wiped her hands on her apron and rounded the bar to give Duncan a hug. "Been a while since you've popped in here. I figured I wouldn't see you until the softball game for the Fourth."

He tweaked her nose. "I had a craving for one of your sandwiches."

She batted his hand away. "Leave my nose alone, jerk, or no sammich for you." She turned her bright gaze onto me. "And who's your friend?"

"This is Rune. Rune, this is my cousin Ella. You met her dad, Bax the first day we met."

"Hi, Ella, nice to meet you." I looked around. "This place is adorable."

"Thanks!" She looks around with obvious pride. "It's my baby."

I frown. "Wait…your baby?"

She nodded. "Yep! I own the space, and I did all the work myself." Duncan cleared his throat ostentatiously, and she rolled her eyes. "Fine. I had some help with the complicated stuff, like using saws."

I shook my head. "So Duncan manages a bar, you own a cafe…are all of you guys, like, super accomplished? Because you're giving me an inferiority complex."

Ella shrugged. "I mean, to one degree or another, yes. Our parents all tend to encourage us to be financially independent." She waves a hand. "Anyway. Welcome to Ella's. What can I make for you?"

Duncan rubbed his hands together, excited. "That one with the bacon aioli and the avocado you made me last time.”

"I have four sandwiches that have those on them," Ellas said, rolling her eyes. "You'll have to be more specific, Donkey."

"The one with the turkey and the spicy cheese." He turned to me. "Ella makes the best sandwiches you'll ever eat. She makes all bread herself in-house."

I scanned the menu—there’s pretty much every combo you can think of, and a few new ones for me—there's one with brie, green apple slices, turkey, and raspberry jam that sounds fucking amazing. But so does the Elvis—peanut butter, bacon, and banana. In fact, the longer I looked at the menu, the less I know what I want.

"You know what, it all sounds amazing," I said. "How about you surprise me. I am partial to turkey, though."

"Any food allergies or hated items?"

"No allergies, no olives, and no feet cheese," I said.

"Feet cheese?" she asked, wrinkling her nose in confusion. “The fuck is that?"

"Bleu cheese, gorgonzola, that stuff," I answered.

She made a disgusted face. "Ew, no. On salads, maybe, but on a sandwich? Not in my shop. No ma’am."

"Glad we agree."

"Chips, drinks, cookies?" she asked, then waved. "Why am I asking? You know your way around, Donkey. Help yourself. I'll bring them out to you."

Duncan got an iced tea and a bag of Baked Lays, and I got a diet and Doritos, because I'm still technically on vacation. It's just a two-month vacation during which I've put on more weight than I did my first year of college; that's an exaggeration, obviously, but not by much. But I don't give a fuck—I'll go back home and have dad coach it off me; it's one of the luxury perks of having a fitness professional father.

"So. Donkey," I said. "Interesting nickname."

"Nope." He pointed at me with a chip. "Absolutely not. Ella's the only one who can call me that."

"Fine, but where'd it come from? You gotta share that much at least."

He rolled his eyes. "It started out as 'Dunky', like Dunc, but with a Y. Eventually, it became Donkey. I gave up trying to make her stop using it years ago."

"Only because I give you free sandwiches," Ella said from the counter. "What he's not telling you is that I've called him Donkey since we were twelve, and it still bothers him, which is why I do it." She laughed as she sets the halves of a sandwich into a red basket lined with wax paper. “He's adorable when he's pissy."

“I’m a man," Duncan grumbled. "I don't get pissy.”