"So..." Carlos began, "mind if I ask you a personal question?"
"Depends on how personal it is," Bowdre replied.
"When you introduced yourself earlier, I never caught your first name."
"C-h-a-r-l-e-i-g-h, pronounced 'Charlie,'" she said.
Carlos raised an eyebrow. It sure was a strange way to spell that particular name. "Is it short for Charlotte or something?"
Bowdre shook her head. "No, just Charleigh. It's been an 'in' name in my family since 1870-something."
"Cool." he said. "Now I got another question for ya." He drummed on his stomach with his hands. "Where we going for dinner?"
"How much money you got?" Bowdre wanted to know.
"You planning on mugging me?" Carlos asked with a small chuckle.
"No," she replied, clearly not amused.
Carlos checked his wallet. He had close to thirty dollars.
"There's an IHOP a little ways up the road." said Bowdre.
"Pancakes? It's almost 8:00 at night." said Carlos.
"Take it or leave it," Bowdre advised.
Carlos abruptly closed his mouth. Bowdre pulled the SUV into a parking spot in a somewhat deserted lot. Evidently, most people weren't craving pancakes at this hour of the night. Carlos opened the door to the restaurant for Bowdre and they entered the lobby, whose only occupants were a family with two small children and a bored-looking hostess. The hostess quickly tried to wipe the scowl off her face when she realized there were new customers. Bowdre approached the hostess stand and requested a booth for two. Immediately, the hostess scooped up two sets of silverware and two menus from under the stand and escorted them to a booth with a window view. Carlos immediately began perusing the menu.
"How can funnel cakes be eight bucks?" he asked quietly.
"Now you know why I only eat here as a treat," said Bowdre.
Any impending conversation was halted by the arrival of the waiter, a scrawny college guy with a semi-Afro haircut and long sideburns. He had his pad and pen out, ready for their drink order.
"Root beer," said Carlos without even stopping to think about it.
"7-Up," said Bowdre, just as quickly.
The waiter was back inside of a minute with their glasses. Bowdre glanced at the menu again, running her finger down the list of breakfast offerings. "Decisions, decisions," she said, almost to herself.
Carlos stared at his own menu, chewing an ice cube from his root beer. "Think I might get a sandwich or something. What are you having?"
"Some form of pancakes." she said.
"Ready to order?" asked the waiter, reappearing next to the table.
"Ladies first," Carlos invited.
"Chocolate chip pancakes, and can I get a small order of fries on the side?"
The waiter blinked, wondering if he'd misunderstood. "Did you say French fries, ma'am?" he inquired.
"Yes."
"I can do that, but they'll be full price," he warned.
"Fine."
The waiter turned to Carlos. "And you, sir?"
"I'll have some of those strawberry funnel cakes with extra powdered sugar and an order of scrambled eggs and bacon."
The waiter blinked again and told Carlos the bacon and eggs, like Bowdre's fries, would be full price. Carlos said he didn't mind the extra cost. Both Carlos and Bowdre could have sworn they saw the waiter shivering as he walked toward the kitchen to drop off their orders.
"Probably wondering how we can stand that stuff all at once," Bowdre guessed sagely.
"Me? I got the stomach of a billy goat." said Carlos.
"Never heard that expression before," she said.
"My grandmother used to say that about me." Carlos explained.
Then the two of them really began to talk. They discovered they both liked dancing, Mexican food, and The Godfather movies. Bowdre had read The Godfather novels after seeing the movies and filled Carlos in on the differences between the books and the movies. They started to feel more at ease with each other, like they were friends. They only stopped talking when the waiter, gagging slightly but visibly, set down their plates. Bowdre and Carlos got down to the serious business of enjoying their dinners.
"Well, that feels a lot better," said Carlos some time later, setting down his knife and fork.
Bowdre nodded in agreement, finished off the last of her fries, and dusted off her hands. She suddenly looked thoughtful as she opened her wallet to pay her portion of the bill. "It's kind of funny, really, that we're both arresting officers in the Molina case." she said. "My name is Charleigh, and, as I'm sure you know, Carlos is the Spanish form of Charles. So no matter what our bosses decide, it's a win for Charlie either way."
Carlos allowed himself a grin. "That's a good way of looking at it, I guess."
He shoved a few dollars under the edge of his plate for a tip and got up from the booth. As he climbed into the passenger seat of the Border Patrol SUV, Carlos suddenly found he didn't care who won the jurisdictional battle anymore.
THE END