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"Them redheads are all like that," he continued. "I know. Been married to two of 'em." He took a bite. "Doggonest critters. You just can't please 'em."
Bobby shrugged. He didn't feel like unraveling his twine ball in front of some old codger looking for company, especially when he needed to psych himself for the job.
The waitress brought his food and the check. He ate quickly.
He'd known Kelsey Fellows almost a year. Had met her in a Saturday adult ed film-appreciation class. She liked to argue. Regardless of what opinion he'd offer, she'd challenge him. More than once the teacher, a bearded firebrand who loved a good argument himself, needed to intervene. But Bobby had to admit that's what attracted him to her.
"You like 'em feisty?"
Bobby was startled.
"Feisty," Skinny repeated. "The redhead. I can tell by looking at you. Probably liked the way she'd argue with you." He chuckled. "Gets old, though, don' it."
Bobby tossed his payment on the counter and walked back to the truck.
He'd asked Kelsey out three times before she finally agreed. And even then, it was with conditions. She'd chose what and where, and she'd pay her own way. They had gone to see some movie. Something she had planned on seeing anyway. He loved it. She hated it. She even tried to get her money back when they left. Afterwards he found himself angrily trying to convince her that a film didn't have to be perfect for someone to enjoy it. It was simple. You could ignore the obvious flaws and just have a good time. What was the problem with just having a goddamn good time? Even now, he remembered the anger. He couldn't remember the movie.
He slid behind the wheel and turned the key, willing the truck to start. With a groan, it did.