There were at least seventy people inside.
I couldn’t understand what was happening.
Neither could Madison.
She approached the first table.
“Good morning! What can I get you?”
Dale folded his hands.
“Whatever Bev’s making.”
Madison blinked.
“I’m sorry?”
“Whatever Bev’s making,” he repeated.
Joanne nodded.
“I’ll have that too.”
Madison moved to the Miller family’s table.
Their father gave the same answer.
“Whatever Bev’s making.”
Then the boys repeated it.
At Mr. Haugen’s table, she heard it again.
At the farmers’ table.
The counter.
The corner booth.
Every customer gave the same order.
**“Whatever Bev’s making.”**
Madison came into the kitchen holding her notepad.
Every order said exactly the same thing.
She looked at me helplessly.
“Bev, what am I supposed to do?”
I stared at the page.
My throat tightened.
“I don’t know, honey.”
***
Chad came out of his office.
