It was about 4:30 pm and Jonathan pulled into the restaurant parking lot. It looked fairly busy so he hoped that was a sign of good food. He parked his Pontiac out of the area of traffic flow so there was less of a chance of it getting damaged. After all, this was his pride and joy now.
He walked inside and was greeted by a friendly waitress named Gloria.
“Welcome, table or booth?” She asked.
“A table is fine,” he said as he looked around. “This is a nice place,” Jonathan followed her to the table.
“Yes, Nellie’s has been here for about 22 years,” Gloria stopped at the table with the menu in hand.
Jonathan pulled out the wood chair and sat down. He glanced at the menu and ordered a Michelob Lite beer and a medium-well cooked cheeseburger with mushrooms. Gloria left the table to put his order in. Jonathan noticed a couple of glances from other patrons and figured it was because he was new there. Gloria brought him his beer and asked him how long he was in town for.
“Oh, I just moved here… I bought the old Anderson house,” Jonathan took a swig from his beer.
“Oh, wasn’t that place vacant for the last two or three years?” Gloria chewed on the end of her pen.
“Yes, that’s what I was told,” Jonathan leaned back in his chair.
“Didn’t someone die there too?” Gloria asked.
“Umm… If so, I don’t know anything about that,” Jonathan hesitated.
“Hey Joe,” Gloria called to one of the patrons sitting at the counter.
The heavy-set man turned around in his seat, “Yes Gloria?”
“This gentleman just moved into the old Anderson house. Didn’t someone die there?” Gloria asked.
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