Sunshine Valley

Instead of answering the daily prompt with personal stuff; I’m gonna work the prompt into my story. Hope you enjoy.

Stories over breakfast

     There was half an hour between morning shift coming in to the sheriffs office and night shift leaving. His deputies needed time to decompress. If this meant taking a shower before you left, venting to your fellow co-workers, he didn’t care what about. Over the years, they had collected a mini gym. Many times Pastor Sam or another spiritual leader was present. There was also a therapist that frequented this time frame. Cops are often portrayed as hard ass s.o.b’s jacked up full of adrenaline on a power trip, Dillon knew better.  

     Evie had asked if she could use this time to cook breakfast for the department. As a thank you. He tried his best to tell her that it wasn’t necessary. Their thanks was that she didn’t get hurt. 

     She grinned from ear to ear, “that’s your thanks.” She winked, kissin’ him on the nose.

      Evie got Della to help her. 

     The deputies had an abbreviated meeting. As they filed into the breakroom, one moaned, “you ladies are killin’ us.”

     “It’s hard to concentrate smellin’ all those great smells.” Dillon smiled as she handed him a hot cup of coffee. He was dressed in street clothes. “Thank you.”

     Someone’s stomach growled about the time Pastor Sam and the Ledbetter’s walked in. Simon was carrying a fruit basket. Evie knew a fruit basket was a joke as a gift. She was unsure of how to express her gratitude. Apparently, one of them thought it was weak as well. 

     The room erupted in laughter. Clint blushed, “sorry y’all.” It was his stomach that had growled.

     “The red handled pot is cinnamon coffee and the black handle is regular.” Evie reported. 

     “Who puts cinnamon in coffee?” Rebecca snapped. 

     She blushed, “you know that cheap coffee stores put on the bottom shelf hopein’ you won’t find it? That’s all Doug and I could afford. It tasted like sawdust. So we started experimenting with different spices to make it drinkable. Cinnamon tasted best. Even though I can buy better coffee now,” she shrugged, “I like it.”

     “It’s delicious.” A female state trooper reported as she took a sip. Her partner was too busy loading a plate to get coffee. 

     Dillon pointed at the plate filler, “I’m sure you remember McMillon? You didn’t get to meet Brewer.” Brewer was the lady getting coffee. 

     Della accepted the fruit basket and started taking it apart. “When Bill and I first got married, I couldn’t boil water.” She laughed. “We had one kettle and I burnt a hole in the bottom of it the first time I used it. Reverend John’s wife Rita gave me my first real cookin’ lesson. And my first job, I did odd things around their house and bought back the kettle I destroyed.”

     Jack smiled a loving smile, “I had one Sunday go to meetin’ shirt when Lily and I got married. Back then, irons were the ones that you put on a hot stove. The iron got so hot that it burnt a hole in my shirt. She cried for a week over that. Had to wear a jacket to church for a month.”

     “I shot my dad in the butt.” Brewer chimed in. “No daughter of his would ever go hungry. He taught all of us how to hunt and fish. I’m still fuzzy on how it happened. There was a beautiful buck lined up in my scope. It was a perfect shot. I held my breath, squeezed the trigger, the buck jumped and there was my dad screaming, ‘you shot me’!”

     Laughter mixed with ooooh’s filled the room. 

     Banks laughed, “now that’s a place I’ve never been. I’ve never been hunten’.”

     Brewer shook her fork at him, “we’ll have to arrange a trip sometime.”

     “Not if you’re gonna shoot me.” Everyone laughed. 

     Other staff members filtered in. Evie figured it was front office staff and dispatchers. 

Sunshine Valley