Trailer, Get Your Kicks!: The Time Travel Trailer, Book 3 by Karen Musser Nortman

Author:Karen Musser Nortman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-04-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Linda

We finished our modest supper and Dinah suggested a game of cards. I was tired—mentally exhausted—and would have been happy to lay down with my book, but no one can turn down that pleading granddaughter look.

“Sure thing, dear. I wish I had a tall glass of ice water.” I turned to my son-in-law. “Kurt, do they sell ice in that shop?”

“I don’t think anyone sells bags of ice yet like we’re used to, but I’m sure they’d put ice in a cup. There’s a small bar at one end of the office. I’ll check.”

I waved him off. “I need the fresh air. I’ll get it.” I took a turquoise aluminum tumbler out of the cabinet and pulled on my cardigan.

“Don’t go getting picked up by some sleaze, Linda.” Kurt winked at me.

“Right.” I let myself out the door.

The night had a little chill, and I pulled my sweater closer around me. It was a pleasant evening. Laughter and music spilled through the screen door of the small office and store. If it wasn’t the wrong time and place, it would be great. I pushed the door open and glanced around. A group of four or five men sat around a small square table at one end of the room playing cards. Several beer bottles teetered on the corners of the table.

I went to the counter and spoke to a grizzled-looking man—John, perhaps?— counting money in the cash register drawer. He closed it quickly as I came close. I never thought I looked like a robber, but maybe so.

“Could I buy some ice?” I held out the tumbler.

He looked from the empty glass to me. “Ice?”

He seemed puzzled by the term, and I thought perhaps we had ended up in another country.

“I just want some ice water and need some ice cubes.”

The request seemed to dawn rather slowly, but a warm smile spread across his face. His smile changed his visage from threatening to welcoming. “Oh, I see. Of course. Sorry—I was thinking about something else.” He reached for the glass and took it back into a small kitchen. A plain looking woman of indeterminate age worked at the counter. Someone out of sight coughed almost continuously.

I watched John get trays out of a small freezer and take them to the sink to open them. I rubbed the side of my thumb, thinking of the numerous times I had pinched it on one of those tray handles.

A shout from the table startled me.

“Verl! You old dog! You hiding cards up your sleeve?”

I looked at the group. A blonde man facing me looked up and grinned, and a chill gripped my spine. Verl. It couldn’t be. He looked at me with recognition too. “Lynette?” he called out.

I turned back just as John came back with my tumbler.

“Here you go. No charge.”

I mumbled my thanks and rushed for the door. A hand grabbed my arm.

“Lynette?” he said again.

“You must have me mistaken for someone else,” I said, turning my face toward him.

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