Over on the Mainland, Tuesday Evening

Marc had given the heads up that this was not a dress up thing. He'd changed from earlier in the day, but only into a fresh pair of jeans, t-shirt, and a light button down over it. (Yes, he was not a guy with a lot of variety in his wardrobe. No prize for guessing if the overall outfit favored his usual dark colors too.)

He picked up Harley at her place and then they headed over to the mainland while it was still light enough the sun hadn't set yet.

Based on Harley's comments about what she was in the mood for, Marc had picked the kind of place that looked like a hole in the wall from the outside. One you could easily overlook if you didn't even know it was there. The inside wasn't too much better, with an eclectic mix of tables and chairs in various stages of torn cushions and cracked surfaces.

But as anyone knew who had experiences with these sorts of things, this was the kind of place where the worse the restaurant looked the better the food was. And sure enough even a casual glance around showed multiple generations of the same family working to seat guests, bus tables, and get the food ready while shouting back and forth at each other in a mix of Creole and English.

Even so, Marc looked at Harley to be sure. "This work?"

[for the wild card. NFB due to distance]