Chapter One The waitress's giant set of balls always threw her off. Jeddy's was one of those neighborhood holes in the wall that had probably been a breakfast joint since Laura's grandma was a kid. During the height of factory shift work it had been open twenty-four hours and, as a relic to the Industrial Age, had never stopped. Even as the fluorescent lights buzzed and blinked and the streets were empty in that surreal hour between 3 a.m. and 4 a.m. when everyone in the world is asleep and you're not, Jeddy's still had the cheap red vinyl bench seats, gummed-shut sugar containers and a few ancient men scratching their balls and chewing on a piece of something from 1983. And then there were the waitress's balls. Someone, years ago (since Laura and Josie were in college) had taken a cut-out cardboard life-size person, put a Jeddy's uniform on her, and attached a pair of those truck hitch plastic balls to it. It had, uh...stuck. So the waitress with balls greeted every customer with a smile, except that the cardboard cutout was actually Julian Sands from the old '80s movie, “The Warlock.” The stuff of nightmares and cheap Netflix thrills. Everything about Jeddy's screamed old, forgotten, ratty and dated. Except the food. One of the owners had passed the restaurant on to a family member who