The One Where Veronica's Dad's Up to No Good

“Veronica!”
Veronica paused as she entered items on the cash register, unsure what she was doing that made people shout out her name.
A woman with badly bleached hair turned a brittle brassy color and large gold earnings was at the end of the counter. Her mouth opened and closed with the motions of chewing gum.
“Um, hello,” Veronica said.
“I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“Really?” Because Veronica couldn’t imagine having ever seen the woman before.
“You were real little then. Cute as a button.”
“Okay.”
“Susie,” the brassy haired woman said. “From the truck stop. You’re dad use to bring you in on the overnight. You always wanted French toast.”
That sounded like her. She loved French toast. Vague memories as sitting at a large counter on orange vinyl stools moved forward in her mind.
“I’m sorry, I don’t remember that so well.”
“You were so small then. Look at you, nearly grown. You in high school?”
“I’m a senior.”
“Any plans?”
“College.”
“Good for you. Your dad’s always going on about how smart you are. You look smart.” Which was a backhanded way of saying she looked nerdy.
“Thanks.”
“Me and your dad, we go way back.”
“Okay.”
“It’s a shame he doesn’t come round the truck stop more often.”
“Okay.”
“Tell your dad I said hello.”
“Okay.”
With a final snap of the gum, the brassy hair woman was gone. Veronica had no idea who she was.