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- Posted: Sat, 06 Oct 2012 01:46:55 +0000
"Right." Ollie nodded. "Water." He fetched Nelly enough to mix the dried milk, then headed out into the dining room, nodded to the customers there and knelt to turn on the jukebox. It lit up like Christmas, lights running cheerily up and down the sides. He set it to playing a sequence of songs, old crackly recordings playing over the speaker. It was old-fashioned even for him, but it wasn't like he had any choice about it. It was something.
He'd always liked Loretta Lynn, anyway.
Returning to the kitchen, he joined Nelly and looked mildly surprised when he was asked about his singer's arms. He'd figured that was the sort of information people might awkwardly brush aside, not ask about some more.
But it was a valid question. "Both, easily. The band was just an evening thing, in the days he delivered beer. Carrying around kegs like that, well, tends to fill your arms out some. And your chest. And... well, I ain't seen a man like that in a long while." It wasn't anyone's fault. There wasn't enough food to be healthy, and there wasn't any beer to deliver. He thought about this sad fact for a moment, until Nelly distracted him by cutting his finger on the edge of the knife.
"Careful there. I, uh..." Right. First aid. Not his strong suit. He grabbed a towel and passed it to Nelly, then glanced at Amanda hopelessly. Maybe she knew how to do something - she was good at... things. Actually, she seemed good at just about everything.