If I'd Known by Paige P. Horne

Author:Paige P. Horne [Horne, Paige P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-03-07T06:00:00+00:00

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I pull into a gravel parking space near the railroad tracks in Juliette.

“Shit, Charlotte. Y’all had some serious heat between you! I’m surprised you didn’t light that damn tree on fire,” Maggie says.

I snort. “We had passion, for sure.”

Cynthia puts her notebook inside her bag, and we four get out. I breathe in fresh pine, and my eyes take in the Georgia red clay mixed in with the chalky gravel.

“What are we going to do with Archie?” Cynthia asks as he lifts his leg and pees on my tire.

“He’ll be fine in the car,” Maggie says. “Cut it back on and roll the windows down, Charlotte. Archie’s afraid of heights, so he won’t try to jump out.”

I do as she asks, and we leave the car and make our way up the worn front porch steps. “We missed the crowd,” I tell them. “There doesn’t seem to be a wait like I remember it.” I take in the place. Boy, it’s been a long time since I’ve been here. The Whistle Stop Café was once an old general merchandise store. The owner closed its doors after forty years back in the seventies, I believe, and twenty years later, it became what it is today. A small street is to the left of The Whistle Stop, running up through the quaint town full of souvenir and antique shops. There’s also a shop or two that is dedicated to the movie Fried Green Tomatoes.

The train tracks line the right, and I can hear the train’s rumble as it comes rolling toward us. We open the screen door and walk up to the glass counter.

“Hello. How y’all doing?” the lady asks.

“Hungry,” Cynthia replies.

“Then you’ve come to the right place. Three today?”

“Yes,” I reply. She nods and grabs us menus.

“Y’all can have a seat in that booth by the window. I’ll be right there,” she says.

The all-wooden booth creaks when we slide in, and moments later, the waitress walks up and leaves us with the menus after taking our drink orders. We decide on a plate of fried green tomatoes for my girls, and we each choose our dinner.

“This place is awesome,” Cynthia says after the waitress takes our order. “We have to go look in the shops after we’re done eating.”

“Yeah, I’d like to walk Archie around a bit,” Maggie says. I look out the old windowpane and watch as the train goes by. It rattles the glass and vibrates our seats. I scan my eyes over the pictures on the wall and whatnots hung around the café. Cynthia grabs her straw and opens it when our server brings us our drinks. We make light conversation, and I enjoy my Georgia sweet tea as Cynthia sips on Coca-Cola and Maggie has the same. The fried green tomatoes are set down in front of us, and Cynthia picks one up and blows on it before dipping it into the sauce.

“I used to eat these all the time,” Maggie says. “So good.”

Cynthia takes a bite, and obviously, she agrees with Maggie because she makes a mmm sound and goes for more.

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