“It’s like, where I come from,” Robyn slurred, “you just don’t pull s**t like that.” She was wasted.
Frances had no idea what Robyn was talking about. She’d been in the kitchen cleaning up and prepping food. A half hour earlier, Tomas had just stopped in the middle of cleaning, tore off his apron and said, “f**k this.” He told Frances to close the kitchen and he walked out.
After that, Rita came in with a beer and said, “Your friend is here.” She set the bottle forcibly against the steel counter. It clattered and foam spilled out the top.
Now Rita sat at the bar on the right side of Tomas, whose full attention was turned to Robyn sitting on his left. Rita looked bored or, more likely, angry. She was smoking a cigarette and thumbing through a copy of Alberta Report a customer had left b
