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.'
'We can't afford it. We should save for the trip.'
'We can afford it. A hot fudge sundae is five dollars. Two for ten dollars. And I'm going to be a dead game sport and tip the waitress a dollar. Man does not live by bread alone. Nor does woman, Woman. Come along!'
We were shown to a table by a pretty waitress (but not as pretty as my bride). I seated Margrethe with her back to the street, holding the chair for her, and then sat down opposite her. 'I'm Tammy,' the waitress said as she offered us a menu. 'What would you folks like this lovely day?'
'We won't need the menu,' I said. 'Two hot fudge sundaes, please.'
Tammy looked thoughtful. 'All right, if you don't mind waiting a few minutes. We may have to make up the hot sauce.'
'A few minutes, who cares? We've waited much longer than that.'
She smiled and went away. I looked at Marga. 'We've waited much longer. Haven't we?'
'Alec, you're a sentimentalist and that's part of why I love you.'
'I'm a sentimental slob and right now I'm slavering at the thought of hot fudge sundae. But I wanted you to see this place for another reason, too. Marga, how would you like to run such a place as this? Us, that is. Together. You'd be boss, I'd be dishwasher, janitor, handyman, bouncer, and whatever was needed.'
She looked very thoughtful. 'You are serious?'
'Quite. Of course we couldn't go into business for ourselves right away; we will have to save some money first
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