Coming Attractions by Robin Jones Gunn Page A

breakfast if she wants
     shiny hair and clear skin, or whatever.”
    “Did you drink it?”
    A playful grin edged up Christy’s face. “No. I poured it down the drain — in front of my uncle, no less. I felt like the most
     rebellious teenager alive! Then I ate as much of the waffle as I could stuff into my face.”
    Katie laughed. “I don’t think I ever heard that story. That’s classic.”
    “Yes, it is. I’m glad we’re going up there tonight. I need to feel young again.”
    “And maybe a little rebellious?”
    Christy gave a mock expression of shock. “Rebellious? Oh, yes, please! What should we do? Leave our wet towels on the bathroom
     floor? Put our feet up on the coffee table? No, I’ve got it. We’ll make waffles tonight for dinner. With syrup and whipped
     cream on top.”
    “You are in a snarky mood! No waffle making for me, though. Not after the cooking disaster I had at your apartment last fall
     with the microwave popcorn.”
    “I almost forgot about that.” Christy put on the blinker, preparing to turn the car into a fast-food restaurant. “I bet they
     have shakes here. What do you think?”
    “I think we’re going to treat ourselves to large milkshakes for dinner. And french fries. We can dip the fries in our shakes.”
    Christy pulled the car up to the drive-through menu and waited for the attendant’s voice to come over the loudspeaker. “We’ll
     take two chocolate shakes and one large fry.”
    “No, make one of those vanilla,” Katie piped in. “One vanilla shake and one chocolate. And make it two large fries.”
    “Will that be all?”
    “Yes.”
    “Oh, look, chili-cheese dogs!” Katie was eyeing the rest of the menu. “And onion rings. I’m really hungry now.”
    “I’ll have your total at the window,” the attendant said.
    They drove up and soon were handed two bulging bags of food. The attendant told them the amount, and it was much more than
     they expected.
    “I think there’s a mistake,” Christy said. “We must have someone else’s food. We ordered one large vanilla shake, one large
     chocolate shake, and two large french fries.”
    The attendant checked the order. “Right, and you also ordered two chilidogs and an onion ring.”
    “No, we didn’t really order those,” Katie said. “I was only saying, ‘Oh, look, they have chilidogs and onion rings.’ I wasn’t
     ordering two chilidogs and an onion ring. Do you see what happened? I was merely commenting that you have them on your menu
     in case I would want to order them.”
    The attendant looked so confused that Katie said, “Never mind. Here, I’ll pay. We’ll take it all.” She handed over more than
     was owed. “Keep the change. And have a nice day.”
    “Thank you!” The young woman looked grateful.
    Christy drove off and said, “What are we going to do with all this food?”
    Katie reached into the bag and pulled out a french fry. “Guess we’ll have to eat it. Do you want me to put your straw in your
     shake for you?”
    “Yes, thanks.” Christy slipped her hand into the bag and pulled out a few fries. “They’re hot. Nothing like a good hot french
     fry.”
    The two friends snacked all the way to Newport Beach. Even though they were ravenous when they left Carlsbad, both of them
     felt uncomfortably full by the time Christy wedged her Volvo into the narrow parking area near Bob and Marti’s beach house.
    “I feel like letting out a huge burp right now.” Katie put her hand up to her mouth.
    “Don’t you dare! You have to mind your manners here, Katie. You know that, don’t you?”
    “Yes, of course I know that. What if we go in first, say our hellos, and then come back for the overnight bags? Then I can
     belch in private.”
    “Good idea.”
    They walked the familiar front walkway up to Bob and Marti’s door. Christy knocked politely. A demure ruffle of a burp escaped
     from Katie’s closed lips.
    “Katie!” Christy whispered.
    “Hey, I had my lips closed. You