“Why in the world would you stop at the gift shop on your way here?” Sarah was completely puzzled by that statement. Sarah shook her head. “Never mind,” she said as he started to say something.
He’d offered to be useful. She couldn’t just refuse; that would be bad manners. The question was; what did she feel comfortable asking for?
“You know hospital food sucks,” she started.
He laughed. “Tell me about it.” Judging by his wry grin, Sarah figured she didn’t have to.
“Been in the hospital before?” she asked with a slight grin.
“Oh, just a few times I suppose.”
“Then I needn’t have to explain why I’m dying for a good slice of greasy pizza.”
“Greasy pizza?” Even asked, his eyebrows rising in surprise.
“Yeah, the greasier the better.” Sarah grinned, “I know not your typical female request.”
Pizza had been the treat food at her home growing up. Seeing as they had to buy about one per person, it wasn’t surprising they didn’t have it often. Not to mention there were no pizza places that would deliver to their farm. So to have Pizza, Sarah's parents would pile them into the station wagon and drive thirty miles into town.
They always went to Mike’s Pizza Parlor. The place had the greasiest most delicious pepperoni that side of the Mississippi. Sarah loved it. She hadn’t found anything in the city yet, that could compare to it.