"They are, but there are things you can add on," she laughed.
"I normally just get the pancakes at night, but you can get eggs, bacon, hash browns or ham on the side."
I nodded as I picked up the menu and studied it. The waitress showed up as I flipped it closed.
"Hot date?" the middle aged lady asked. She wore a pin that said her name was Meg.
Amber blushed and started to shake her head as I nodded at the waitress. "First date," I answered.
"And you thought taking her to a diner after she got off work was a good idea?" Meg cackled.
"Not necessarily my first choice," I admitted. "But I wanted to be with Amber, and she said the pancakes here are the best. Only a fool would turn down the chance to spend time with her."
Meg grinned as she smacked her gum while she chewed. "Well hot damn, sweet thing! You're as smart as you are handsome. Good news, she didn't lie. Gus's recipe is going to blow your mind."
She cocked her head to the side and looked at Amber. "The usual?"
Amber smiled sweetly and nodded.
"How about you, hot stuff?" Meg asked when she turned back to me.
"I'll have what she's having."
"Got it. She drinks lemon tea with her pancakes—is that okay, or do you want something else to drink?"
“No tea for me. I’ll just have a decaf coffee with cream."
Meg nodded and blew a bubble with her gum as she jotted down the order on the small pad in her hand. When she finished, she popped the bubble with her index finger and grinned. "I'll be back with your order. You two lovebirds enjoy yourselves but don't do anything I wouldn't do."
Amber sputtered out a laugh as I grinned at Meg. "I guess we'd need to know what you wouldn't do," I countered.
Meg wiggled her brows as she turned away. "Good girls don't tell, honey," she called back over her shoulder.
Amber was grinning when I turned my attention back to her. "Meg likes you, and she doesn't like many men under the age of forty-five. She claims the younger generations are just about a complete loss."
I chuckled as I leaned forward and crossed my arms on the table. "My grandmother says something similar," I confided. "She told my parents that if my siblings and I turned out to be idiots, she'd never forgive them. Fortunately, we meet with her approval. I can't imagine disappointing her."
She set her chin on her palm as she grinned. "I guess your family is really close. You all work together, right?"
I shook my head. "My sisters are both stay-at-home moms right now, so they only come in for board meetings, and my dad retired two years ago. He and my mom are enjoying their thirty-second honeymoon."
She raised an eyebrow. "That's a lot of honeymoons," she laughed.
There was a pause as a waitress who wasn't Meg slid our mugs onto the table. After we thanked her and she walked away, I responded to Amber's comment.
"My parents are like newlyweds," I explained. "They've gone on a honeymoon trip every year for their anniversary. It's been thirty-seven years, and they only ever missed taking a trip alone together during the years one of the four of us were infants. Other than that, they've been consistent. Back then they'd go somewhere close, but these days they've branched out. Right now they're in Greece. They never go anywhere for longer than two weeks because they can't stand to be away from their grandbabies. Plus," I continued with a chuckle, "they watch the kids when my brother and sisters take their yearly honeymoons."
"So it's a family thing?" she asked as she stirred three packets of sugar into her tea.
"Tradition," I nodded. "Everyone in my family takes marriage very seriously. As far back as we have records no one on my father's side of the family has ever been divorced. Once you've got the Channing name, you're in it for life."
Her eyes had widened before she smiled. "Wow," she laughed. "I'm impressed and a little jealous."
"What about you?" I asked. "What's your family story?"
She let out a hmph as she traced her index finger over the steaming rim of her mug of tea. "Not quite as lucky as you are in that regard. My parents got married two months before I was born and they filed for divorce six months later. My father moved to Florida when I was a year old. By the time I was three he was no longer in contact at all and I haven't seen or heard from him since,” she shrugged.
She tried to play it off like she was used to it but I could tell it hurt.
“My mom is a serial wife,” she continued with a grimace. “She's been married four more times but has never had any more children. She never really wanted to be a parent, and that was never more evident than when she moved to Iceland with husband number five and allowed me to move in with Caroline and her grandmother so I could stay here. I was thirteen."