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and out the doors unnoticed; the clerk was too busy with paperwork from the night before to even look up. Beth crossed the parking lot and walked over to the Waffle House.  There were several cars in the parking lot. She recognized the two-tone GMC from the day before. Maybe he stopped by here to sober up before his trip home. She wondered if he had hit it big at the tracks like he thought he would. She could not imagine what fun lay in throwing away everything on such a risky enterprise. But then wasn’t that exactly what she had done? Rolled the dice and lost.  Big time.  Beth swallowed the hard lump in her throat and entered the building.
                  As soon as she smelled the fresh coffee and greasy bacon frying, she began to feel the nausea welling up in her throat. It was beginning to irritate her. She wondered how many months she would have to endure it. She wondered about a lot of things. Would her parents let her raise the baby? Was adoption an option? Could she give her baby away to strangers?
                  Chris would have to be told; her father would insist on it. She didn’t want Chris marrying her out of obligation. She wasn’t even sure she was ready to be married, but ready or not, she was going to be a mother. Another wave of nausea hit her, and she raced to the ladies’ room to dry heave again.
                  When she came out of the restroom, she was so addled that she ran smack into someone.
                       “Oh. I’m sorry, sir. I wasn’t looking.”
                  “No problem, little missy,” the dirty white man grinned. “Sure is a fine day ain't it?”
                        “Yeah it is,” she replied and hurried to a table that was sandwiched between two families. A tall and bony waitress with black circles under her eyes and a pencil stuck behind her ear made her way to the table and took her order.
         Chocolate milk sounded good to Beth, and grilled cheese, and maybe she would try some oatmeal as well. She was not sure how any of it would set on her stomach, but she was ravenous by this time.
                  Catfish Bones, a.k.a, Phineas Jones, exited the men’s room and made his way to a bar stool at the counter. He kept turning his head her way, as if wondering if she recognized him from the day before. After he was seated, he looked over his shoulder again. It was her. He was certain. Wonder what that lil filly is doing here? Someone just passin’ through should be long gone by now. Did she suspect something? Was she one of those undercover agents he had heard about? They trained ‘em mighty young these days. No one would imagine that little slip of a girl to be a DEA officer. That would make the perfect cover. I better watch myself.              
         “ Give me a coffee, black, hash browns smothered and covered, and three scrambled eggs with toast.”
              “ You got it, sir. Comin’ right up,” the skinny waitress replied.
                  He turned on his bar stool to face Elizabeth and seeing she was within earshot, he fished a bit. 
         “ You, little lady, you from around here?” Elizabeth looked up, surprised that he had spoken. She looked around. The place was full of customers. No harm in answering him. He was just making small talk.
                  “Not too far from here. I stayed at the Horseshoe a little too long last night. Missed the casino ride back.”
         “ Oh is that so? You have any luck over there?”
                  “Nope. Not a bit. Just kept trying to win my money back,” she lied. “How about you?”
                 
         “I, uh, come to town occasionally to do a bit of gambling on the dogs,” he lied right back.
                  “You have any luck last night?” she asked.
       “ I didn’t do too bad for an old