The black sports car came to a complete stop next to Bridgette’s fuming car. The driver glared out of his window, cigar smoke escaping into the frigid air. A middle-aged man who could have been Jack’s twin, but with salt and pepper hair, peered up at Frank and Bridgette. He began to speak loudly to them but his deep voice was drowned out by the voices of young boys in the backseat of his car. The man turned around to the boys and gave them a stern look, not uttering a word. All three boys, ages ranging from two to six years, sat up straight and closed their mouths. The man turned back around to focus on Frank and Bridgette. Next to him, his ever-patient wife Moira sat calmly in the passenger’s seat with a green blanket over her legs as she focused on the book she was reading.
Angus' piercing green eyes narrowed in on Frank and Bridgette's faces, his voice now peppered with a sarcastic bite.
"What is the hold up now, Bridgette? Francis, fix whatever is wrong with that heap of metal!" demanded Angus with healthy dose of attitude. Bridgette was offended that Angus was addressing questions about the car to her husband instead of her. She crossed her arms in protest. Moira stirred in the passenger seat as she clucked her tongue at Angus.
"Please do not feel the need to wait for me," fumed Bridgette to her father.
"No. I would love nothing more to be done with this mini-road trip. However, I do not want to hear one of your brother's monologues about how I am too impatient or too...whatever to wait for you," said Angus gruffly.
A distinct noise could be heard from inside the expensive car, the sound of a tongue smacking against the roof of a mouth. Angus shot a frazzled glare towards his wife.
“Moira! Stop clucking at me!” demanded Angus. Moira peered up from her book with an amused smile on her face. Glaring at him over her wide-rimmed glasses, she politely gave him a piece of her mind without uttering a word, with a stern glare.
"Just need a jump. Pop your hood, or I'm sure one of the guys in Monte's could do it for me," explained Bridgette. Frank raised his left eyebrow and began to protest.
"I think…” Frank started, but was interrupted by his agitated wife.
"Francis, please!" begged Bridgette, who was not in the mood for particulars. Bridgette attempted to hook up the cables to her engine as both Frank and Angus began to complain. Angus was grumbling to himself.
Why is everything a song and dance?! Angus thought.
Angus pulled a lever under the steering wheel, and the hood of his shiny car clicked open gracefully. The door of the car swung open as he stepped out, one brown penny loafer at a time. He approached Bridgette with his hands out, non-verbally asking for the jumper cables. Bridgette returned Angus a look that said, "Yeah right!" She walked the cable over to Angus' car and attached it. Angus, beyond agitated, looked over to his wife and shook his head.
"And I'm the difficult one?! Your daughter is incorrigible!” complained Angus.
"My daughter? I must be exceedingly talented to have pulled that one off all by myself! I suppose they are only my children when you do not have something to boast about!" Moira argued. Frank, seeing that his expertise was not needed, headed into the diner to see what was keeping his lunch.
Though Elkhart was a small mountain town, the eatery was bustling with patrons. Monte’s always made out well financially when a storm was about to hit. Much of the seating in the tiny diner was being taken up by Frank’s own workers. Frank approached the workers who were greatly enjoying their lunch. As Frank approached his crew, he cleared his throat. The workers stood straight up in their seats when they caught Frank’s glare.
“What be the status of my turkey club?!” Frank asked of his workers. Kyle, Frank’s youngest crew member jumped out of his seat and quickly walked to the front counter to order Frank’s forgotten club sandwich. The group, formerly excited about their upcoming Christmas festivities, were now sullen and cautious as they stared down at their plates.
“You guys sure seem uptight today,” Frank noticed.
The door to Monte’s swung open again, ringing the bell that hung above the door. Bridgette came rushing into the diner, her arms aching from carrying her chubby baby and a large diaper bag. A small dark-haired boy toddled behind her. With a frantic look in her eyes, she searched the room for Frank. Frank’s crew spotted her before he did, and they all craned their necks to get a better view.
“Over here!” Frank called to Bridgette. Frank’s workers eyed Bridgette up and down. Their eyes lingered over her wild curly hair, her curvaceous figure, attractive smile. After a moment, their eyes darted back to Frank’s face, switching between the two, trying to figure out the relationship between their often grouchy supervisor and this lovely creature. Surely this couldn’t be his wife. She looked like she was a high school student, while he…well let’s just say the nickname Bulldog wasn’t given solely for his surly attitude. Although he was only twenty-seven and she twenty, he looked middle aged, while she was radiant and youthful. Meanwhile the workers who knew Bridgette had already labeled her as something entirely different. Full of hell and always ready for a fight.