Meadowlarks by Thomas Holladay (novels to improve english TXT) 📗

at Joanne. “You open for cocktails?”

“Until 2:00am.”

“I’ll have a C.C. on the rocks.” He looked at Carolyn, hoping to get her a little high, maybe even drunk.

“Water would be nice.”

“What about your son?”

“You have V-8 juice?”

“Sure thing.” Joanne folded her order pad into her apron. “Your drinks and salads will be right out.” She scooted into the kitchen and an argument started immediately.

Kirby couldn’t make out their words, an argument for sure.

Carolyn glanced toward the kitchen and leaned closer. “Maybe we shouldn’t have come on Christmas Eve.”

“Nonsense.” Kirby sank into her eyes, steady and gorgeous.

She looked away.

“I talked to her about it this morning and she was eager for the business.”

Joanne exited the kitchen and disappeared into the bar.

He said, “When we get back to your place, I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?” She sounded more cautious than curious.

“It’s been in the works since before you left the office.” This was only a little white lie. What difference did it make that they put her stupid book together after Thanksgiving? Considering how much Kirby Publications owed their printers, it was a miracle they'd gotten it published at all. It being a rush job with art made it a super miracle.

Joanne set a large tray on a nearby table and delivered their salads with icy glances at Kirby. “We’re all out of blue cheese. All we’ve got is ranch and this vinaigrette.” She set the servers in the middle of the table then delivered their drinks.

Kirby watched her return to the kitchen and turned back to Carolyn. “I wonder what’s gotten into her.”

“Like I said, maybe we shouldn’t have come.”

“I told you, I set this up this morning. Besides, I’m looking forward to a good cut of beef.”

Carolyn smiled. “We have plenty of beef. We’re a cattle ranch.”

“I went on a cattle drive down in Texas. You know, like those City Slickers movies. The steaks were tough as my old sneakers.” Kirby spooned ranch dressing onto his salad and took a bite.

Carolyn said, “Come on, honey.”

The kid returned to the table and they both lowered their heads.

Kirby stopped chewing.

After half a minute, they raised their heads and the kid said, “Amen.”

Carolyn spooned vinaigrette over her salad and the kid ate his without dressing.

Kirby said, “Kid, this ranch is terrific.”

The kid ignored him and Kirby sipped whiskey.

Carolyn said, “Willis Donner eats salads without dressing so Jason decided to give it a try.”

The kid nodded and chewed lettuce, throwing another obnoxious look at Kirby.

“Who’s Willis Donner?”

“He’s one of our neighbors. He and John Crow help out around the place. I thought I told you.” She ate some salad. She liked it. “Willis and John are teaching us about the ranch. Jason likes them both.” She left something unsaid, maybe because of the kid.

Kirby sipped whiskey, set it down and chomped into more salad. He sneered at the kid.

The kid wasn’t looking.

They finished their salads just before Joanne delivered three large dinner platters. Kirby’s prime rib stood an inch thick and his baked potato had been heaped with sour cream and freshly cut scallions. Carolyn’s lobster and the kid’s trout looked equally spectacular.

Joanne set sides of pinto beans, greens and sauces around their table.

Kirby cut into his prime rib and took a bite. “Mm. How did you cook this? It’s delicious.”

Joanne tossed an angry glance at Kirby then smiled at Carolyn. “We use all seven ribs, wrap it in rock salt and leave it at least a day, cut it open along the bones, open it up and sprinkle in garlic powder. We tie it back up and let it stand another day. Then we pepper the outside, cook it at five hundred degrees for an hour and a quarter and turn off the oven. We leave it in the oven for another hour and it's done. We cooked and carved this one in September and flash froze individual servings. Still just as good as fresh cooked.” She smiled a little and watched the kid eat trout.

Kirby helped Carolyn de-shell her lobster, ignoring Joanne’s icy stares. “Where do you get your beef?”

“This is prime Angus beef from the Potter Ranch up the pass.”

Kirby choked out a surprised laugh. “Well, Joanne, meet Carolyn Potter and her son, Jason.”

Joanne sucked air, hand over her breast. “You from up Sonora Pass?”

Carolyn nodded, swallowing lobster. “We’re really from Los Angeles. We inherited the ranch earlier this year. My husband was John Potter.”

Joanne’s friendly manner swarmed all over Carolyn and the kid. “For heaven’s sake. We knew Kidro. He sold us our first order right after my husband bought this place. How’d you get hooked up with this . . .” she iced Kirby with a look, “gentleman?”

Kirby wanted to push her face to the back of her nasty skull. “She’s one of our best authors. Her husband was my chief editor and my best friend.”

What’s your problem, bitch?

“Well, enjoy your meal.” Joanne sneered at Kirby and scooted back into the kitchen.

He took a sip of whiskey and chewed into another piece of meat. It tasted like cardboard. His gut wrenched with rage. He tipped up and drained his glass of whiskey. It didn’t look like Joanne would be back anytime soon.

Kirby stood. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” He took his empty glass to the double swinging kitchen doors and knocked. No porthole window. He stepped back when Joanne pushed out and faced him.

Mona stood in the middle of the large commercial kitchen, red-eyed and puffed up from crying.

Joanne stepped farther out and let the door close behind her. “What now?”

“I’m dry.” Kirby showed her his empty glass, ready for a fight.

She snatched the glass and strutted into the bar.

Kirby followed. “What’s eating you two?”

She walked behind the bar but wouldn’t look at him. Her voice shook. “Mister, if she were my little girl, I’d shoot you myself.” Joanne set the empty glass in the bar sink and took a clean one from the back shelf.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

She tossed ice in the glass, poured