Page 97 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming

The server comes to their table. “Welcome to the Sunny Side Up diner. What can I get you folks to drink?”

“I’ll have a beermosa made with Blue Moon,” Silas answers.

“And I’ll have a regular mimosa,” Bridget replies.

“May I please see your IDs?”

They each show her their IDs. “Thank you. I’ll be right back with your drinks.” The server exits.

“I can’t remember the last time I got carded.” Bridget puts her license away.

“Me either. I’m forty-nine, so I?—”

“Wait, what? You’re how old?”

“Forty-nine.”

“You have to share your skincare regimen with me.”

“Please, like your fine ass needs one.”

Bridget blushes and looks down at the table and glances back up when the server returns with their drinks.

“Are you two ready to order?” the server asks.

“I’ll have the breakfast special displayed on your window,” Bridget answers.

“Me too, but no meat,” Silas says.

The server nods and exits.

“Are you a vegetarian?” Bridget asks.

“Naw, I don’t eat pork, and not for religious reasons. I’m just not a fan.”

“Got it. Where were we?” Bridget asks.

“I was telling you how fine you are, and you blushed.” Silas smirks.

Bridget blushes again. “Stop.” She giggles. “Oh, my god! You’re making me all giddy.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“I suppose, but the last time a guy made me giddy, I married him.”

“Why aren’t you still together?”

“He left me for a younger woman.”

Silas frowns and shakes his head. “I’m always telling my daughter to stay away from niggas like that. Fools that don’t respect their ladies and see them as replaceable aren’t the type to change. They remain selfish and do nothing but cause harm.”

“Amen,” Briget agrees. “How old is your daughter?”

The server comes back with their food and places their respective plates in front of them. They each thank her, and she exits.

Silas adds jam to his toast. “I have two. My oldest is thirty, and my youngest just turned twenty. It was the twenty-year-old I was warning,” he answers.

“You do not have a thirty-year-old kid. I do not believe you.” Bridget unfolds her napkin and lays it across her lap.