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Click hereNow this was getting really weird. Evan had gotten here about 11 a.m. and the doors were open. He thought it weird that no one was here. No one except Mr. Devlin, that is.
"I got here around 11 a.m. and the place was open. I was coming to meet an old friend. I came in to wait and saw Mr. Devlin." Before he could finish, the waitress cut in.
"The same Mr. Devlin who's been dead for three years now?"
This had to be a bad joke. He had come in, talked to Mr. Devlin, told an eighteen-year-old Phoebe that he loved her, and she kissed him good bye.
It wasn't a joke though. The waitress pointed to a photo over the grill. There, plain as day, was the man Evan had talked to. Under the photo read the caption "REST IN PEACE: 4-3-00".
Evan was dumbfounded. He knew that he talked to the old cook. He knew that the eighteen-year-old Phoebe had been here. He didn't really know anything.
"Hey" said the waitress "I don't know how you got in here but nothing is missing or damaged. Plus you were just sitting. Maybe whoever closed forgot to lock the doors. You could have thought the place open. I won't call the cops this time."
Evan smiled weakly as he got up from the booth. "Can I get a sweet tea to go?" He was thirsty and maybe the tea would wash this all away.
The waitress walked behind the counter to get his drink. Evan got his wallet out to pay the lady. Opening it up, Evan stopped to look at the photos he carried. On top was one of he and Phoebe with their three kids.
A smile spread across his face as he gave the lady money for the drink. Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed home. It rang three times before a voice answered. A voice that belonged to Phoebe.
"I was just calling to let you know that I love you and I am on my way home."