about eating
Whut
about eating for a while.
Laura looked at her with a dumbstruck expression on her face. “Whut in hail did y’all do, gal?” she asked. “Ah found the sammiches. You go to a pahty, or didja get a delivery kid?”
Tania giggled, and shook her head. “No,” she said, and the story of the strange guy in the bar spilled out under Laura’s prodding. But to her surprise, Laura wasn’t pleased.
“Jee-zus!” the girl finally exploded, tossing her tangled hair over her shoulders. “Whut in hail didja thank you was doin’? This ain’t no fairy tale, girl! Man don’ give away money foah nothin’! You ain’t gonna go back theah, are you?”
“Not while he’s there,” she replied, resentfully. “But the tab’s real, Laura; I saw the charge slip. I think we oughta eat it up before he changes his mind—”
Laura wasn’t convinced, and she scowled, then interrupted her. “That’s ’nother thang, now ah’m glad I didn’ eat them sammiches—he prolly put dope in there. First taste is free, but—”
“Laura, they came straight out of the kitchen. He didn’t touch them! Kevin Barry’s is straight-edge, you dummy, they wouldn’t do anything like that!” At Laura’s continued scowl, she added, “Besides, I already ate one, and it was okay.”
“Jeezus,” the older girl said explosively. Then, “I reckon it’s all right.