The Blob Read Online Free

little closer to the counter.
    Fran looked over at him, her eyebrows raised. She didn’t seem at all annoyed that he’d interrupted her daydreaming. “Pardon me, Herb?”
    “I said, I’d take this coffee any day over that battery acid they dredge up over at McDonald’s!”
    “Yeah, it ain’t bad, is it?” Fran was a handsome lady in her thirties, with a kind of resignation hanging on her that signified she’d been waiting on tables all her life so far, and expected to be waiting on tables the rest of her years. Still, she kept herself looking good, and had a touch of sass to her that Herb found appealing. “You want some more?” she asked.
    “Sure do!”
    She poured him some more coffee and the steam and rich, nutty flavor rose up in a hot breath from the stained ceramic cup. “You’re an obstinate fella, Herb. Everybody else who comes in here is sucking up the iced tea on a scorcher like today, and you’re sticking to your coffee.”
    He was about to respond to that, when a pair of telephone linemen barged through into the diner and plopped into a booth.
    “Pardon me, Herb. Ma Bell rings,” said Fran, pulling a couple of menus from a rack and going around to serve the men.
    Herb took a stainless steel metal creamer from its spot by the salt and pepper and poured himself some into his coffee. Steam rose, and clouds swirled in the liquid as he looked at that coffee. Hell, he thought. Why am I drinking hot coffee on a day like this?
    Fran came back and he immediately waved at her.
    “You know, I’m one stubborn son of a bitch. You’re right. Gimme an ice tea, Fran.”
    She smiled, filled a glass with ice and poured. “Good. I suppose you’ve guessed that the manager is giving me a healthy commission on iced tea today!”
    Geller laughed as he took the iced tea. He drank some, no sugar, and he said, “Yeah, Fran. Hits the old spot!”
    It was that kind of day.
    He was about to start up another conversation—broaching a subject he’d been working up to for half an hour now—when the linemen started waving for Fran’s attention.
    Herb Geller had been sheriff of Morgan City for over ten years now. Before that he’d been a police officer in Denver, accepting a job as a cop in the small town when he got sick of dealing with big city stuff and just wanted to get away. When Sheriff Patterson had thrown in the towel and retired, Herb Geller had been in the exact right spot to run for sheriff. He liked the job; he really did. It wasn’t just that he liked being a big fish in a little pond. He had honestly grown to care about this town and its people, to sympathize with their problems. They were people just like people everywhere, and the fact that they had to hang on just a little harder than most to keep their town alive appealed to Geller.
    Trouble was, here he sat, a good three years past the big four oh, and his wife, Abby, was long gone. She said she couldn’t stand it here, that she missed Denver. So she moved back and got hitched up to some other cop. And now Herb Geller was getting tired of just dating the pretty snow bunnies that showed up for winter vacations; now he was looking around for someone steady.
    And then, just last year, Fran Hewitt showed up. She was with some guy at the time but now the guy was gone. Herb had started noticing her right away, but at first Fran had seemed about as friendly as a rattlesnake. She wouldn’t go out with nobody. But lately she was getting friendlier, smiling at him and talking; then it was his turn to get nervous and tongue tied. It was one thing to chase ladies who were eager for a holiday romance, ladies you probably would never see again. It was a different thing entirely with a woman you saw every day, who knew all your warts and tics and probably your history as well.
    So now he was really thinking hard about putting it on the line, thinking about finally asking Fran Hewitt out.
    He drained half the cold glass, thinking about what to say.
    As Fran