CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
With the annoying wig bounded into a messy ponytail, Leslie entered the Big Springs waffle house the next morning.
Max sat in the back booth with his dyed-yellow hair spiked with mousse, shuffling syrupy waffles into his mouth.
Leslie sat across from him at the table and checked out the small group of old people, splattered throughout the restaurant.
“Did you sleep okay?” Max’s shades dipped off his nose as he sipped from a huge cup of tea so sweet Leslie could smell the sugar.
“Have either of us had a good night’s sleep since this trip began?”
“Yeah, but with that fire and all I figured it was extra hard for you. You were so emotional. I’m sorry about the shelter.”
She yawned, stroking a strand from her wig. “This wig’s getting on my last nerves.”
“We can get
