“Can’t believe that worked,” I said.
“Ayup,” Jack agreed, staring at the pancakes on the end of his fork.
I took a bite of my own, but I was slowing down. I might only have one or two more stacks in me.
So did Wally’s, and Wally was the casualty, slumped on the table with his head down, lightly snoring. Anna Maria had actually stuck napkins to his forehead for an impromptu sleeping mask.
“This is like the end of that movie, is it not?” Anna Maria asked.
“What movie?” Natalie asked, contemplating the haphazard house of bacon she was constructing.
“What’s that?” Jack asked.
“Avengers,” I said.
“Oh, you mean the shawarma scene. Yeah, I can see that.”
“Okay, I think I’m done,” Kate announced.
“What, don’t want to tackle any more fallen angels?” Jack managed a weak chuckle.
“No. I intend to screw the brains out of Matt Allen for giving us the answer.”
“Give him one for me,” Natalie added, holding up the strip of bacon.
“Hey,” I said.
Natalie shoved the bacon in my mouth.
Kate wobbled out of the restaurant as our French-speaking waitress dropped off the check.
I grabbed it, taking a look. “Damn, what’s the exchange rate?” I asked.
“Ouch,” Natalie said, leaning over to look. “Not good enough to make much of a difference.
“Not it,” Jack said.
We all followed suit, except for Wally, who still snored. I passed the check to Natalie, who passed it to Jack, and then Anna Maria, who fished into Wally’s pocket for his wallet, taking out the gold card.
“You know, I like this place,” I said, taking another bite. “What’s the name of it again?”
“Saugenay Flapjack Mill,” Natalie said.
“We should come back.”
“Especially if Wally’s buying.”