Marrying A Cowboy(9)By: Tyra Brown
The next morning Monica woke up around 10am. It wasn’t like her to stay in bed that long, but the extra sleep was just what she needed to recover. She was ready to get to work but she knew that Billy and his assistants would probably be sleeping until well into the afternoon. That’s how men in the music business operated. It was something that she still hadn’t gotten used to. Growing up, her father had always woken up at 5amto begin his workday. That’s what she had come to expect from a man. Her father had even told her on more than one occasion not to trust any man who wasn’t out of the bed by 6am.
After showering and getting dressed, Monica made her way down to the kitchen. She could have really used something filling—like grits, bacon, or eggs. Unfortunately for her there was hardly anything in the refrigerator, except for bottles of champagne, liquor, a box of old delivery pizza. She sighed as she closed the refrigerator door. Then she saw a note on the counter. It had Billy’s name on the bottom.
If you want to get something to eat, grab the keys on the table and take the Benz into town. Goodwin’s Diner is the best place for breakfast. But watch out for the cowboy.
She was glad that he had been thoughtful enough to leave the keys out for her but she was still a little disappointed that he hadn’t been thoughtful enough to actually stock the fridge with food. She would be happy to take a drive and get to know the area better. But the last line didn’t make any sense to her. She figured it was some inside joke amongst the guys. Cowboy? She had never seen a real cowboy, not in person. As she thought that word, a tingly energy spread throughout her body and she couldn’t help smiling. She grabbed the keys and headed out to the driveway.
Within ten minutes she saw the sign for the diner come into view. This wasn’t the kind of food that she usually ate for breakfast but she could hear her stomach making noises and she desperately needed to eat something. When got out of the car, she noticed that some of truckers in the parking lot turned to look at her. Their eyes went from her to freshly washed Benz that she’d driven up in and then they floated back to her. Their insistent and curious stares made her uncomfortable but she quickly brushed that feeling away. She wasn’t the type of person who spent a lot of time fretting about what strangers thought of her. She had learned early in life that when you held your head up high and were confident in yourself, people would take notice of you, especially if you happened to be a curvy African-American woman.
When she walked into the diner, it didn’t take her long to notice that she was one of the very few African-Americans in there. A few black men in trucker gear turned, looked her up and down and then went back to eating their breakfast. They might have thought she was stuck up or something but once again she quickly brushed off the negative attention.
“Hello, miss,” a middle-aged blonde-haired waitress said to her. “Would you like to sit down or is your order to go?”
Monica hesitated a moment before answering. She looked around the diner for a moment. It was your typical greasy spoon. Back home, she would have never looked twice at a place like this. But she wasn’t back home. She had come all the way out here for new experiences and inspiration for her album. And an important part of that process was stepping out of her comfort zone.
She told the waitress that she wanted to sit down in a booth. The bleached blonde raised her eyebrows in surprise. Then she led Monica to a booth.
She ordered coffee, bacon, eggs, and toast. She couldn’t wait for the food to come. Her stomach was growling and her mouth began to water. She could hear the bacon and eggs crackling and the smell of grease was thick in the air. She was glad that Billy hadn’t stocked any food in the fridge. If she didn’t leave his ranch, there was so much that she would miss out on. It wasn’t long before the waitress came back with the steaming hot plates. Monica immediately dug in. The bacon and eggs tasted delicious, very greasy but delicious. She was reminded of the down home southern food she used to enjoy during the summers with relatives. The sweetness of the maple syrup was the perfect complement to the grease and she washed it all down with swigs of black coffee. Within minutes, she was completely satisfied. She leaned back in the booth with a big smile on her face.