Page 2 of Fifty
Juggling my two jobs seems to be getting harder and harder. The late nights followed by early mornings aren’t the best combination. I might have to make a choice soon, and the night job certainly pays better. But I love the diner, and I would feel horrible leaving Dave and Gloria. I’ve only been here a couple months but they’ve been so welcoming.
I had just rolled into town two months ago, coasting on fumes, and they were about to close after the lunch shift. Gloria took one look at my ragged appearance and dragged me inside, whipping me up a grilled cheese and tomato soup. I had been driving all night and honestly, I wasn’t even sure what state or town I was in when I finally decided to stop.
Gloria and Dave gave me a job and helped me find a place to live, and Rock Hill has been home ever since. I couldn’t be more grateful for everything they’ve done for me. I wish my parents had been as supportive, then maybe I wouldn’t have left home when I did.
I let out a deep breath in preparation as I push through the swinging door and into the buzzing dining room. As expected, the counter and surrounding booths are full. Gloria and Sadie are both running around the room, covering for my lateness. I catch Gloria’s eye and mouth, “Sorry.” Luckily, she offers me an easy smile and a shrug. They’re definitely too good to me.
I reach for a small pad and pen from beside the register and get to work at the counter.
“Coffee?” I ask with a smile as I move down the counter, filling or refilling almost every cup. After filling a few glasses with water or juice, I move back to take food orders.
“How do you want your eggs? Bacon, ham, or sausage? Beans, grits or fresh fruit?” I ask on repeat as I move down the line of hungry customers.
The kitchen works fast, and full plates are delivered as soon as they’re ready. I deliver checks and collect money from full and happy customers, and wish them all a good day. After clearing dirty dishes and wiping down the counter, I watch as the seats fill up again with fresh smiling faces and I start the cycle over again. I seem to run on autopilot until the rush slows and I grab a short break before the lunch crowd starts to arrive.
I grab a large cup and fill it with ice and Sprite before stepping into the kitchen. I lean back against the large door to the walk-in freezer. My eyes close as I take a long pull from the straw, letting the tiny bubbles tingle against my tongue.
“Another late one, darlin’?” Dave’s question falls out with an easy chuckle.
“Mmhmm,” I hum out, too tired to open my eyes or form any real coherent type of response.
“Maybe you should think about quitting that night job,” he suggests and I open my eyes in just enough time to see his raised eyebrows as they lower.
It only took a couple weeks for me to realize that I would need a second job, and I’ve been honest with Dave and Gloria from the get-go. They know my situation, and I know that they’re making an effort to pay me well, but I need more than a waitress’s salary to survive. When I took the second job, I had promised that it wouldn’t affect my work here, and I feel so guilty that I’ve already broken that promise. I really need to get my shit together.
“I wish I could,” I breathe out. “But I need that cash. This living on my own shit is expensive,” I smile back at him and he gives a small nod in understanding.
“I know. I just hate to see you working yourself so hard. You’re young; you should be out having fun,” he says as I swallow another large mouthful of Sprite. The door to the dining room swings inward and Sadie’s head pokes through.
“You’ve got three at the counter,” she grins.
“I’ll be right out,” I tell her before sucking down what’s left in my cup. I toss the straw in an already full garbage bag, and then drop the plastic cup into the dirty dish bin before heading back out to handle the next round at the counter.
“Good afternoon. Who’s hungry for some lunch?” I question as my eyes move over the now four occupied seats. It looks like one more has arrived in the thirty seconds since Sadie announced that I had customers.
My eyes fall on the last seat at the counter, and I can’t help but do a double take. A large and rough looking guy towers over the counter. Even in a seated position, it’s easy to see that he’s built. I watch his hand lift and run over the short, dark hair covering his head as he stares at the small plastic menu on the counter in front of him. I know I should look away, but my eyes refuse to move. A black t-shirt clings to his thick biceps and a dark leather vest seems to hug his torso perfectly.
His eyes lift and catch mine in their gaze. They’re dark and the combination of his eyes, hair, and the dark leather is striking. His eyes glint and he gives an easy smirk, obviously finding it amusing that he’s just caught me staring right at him. I feel the heat of embarrassment rush to my skin, consuming me as I quickly turn and move towards the opposite end of the counter.
After taking the first customer’s order, I turn and fill a cup with ice and Coke. As the liquid pours down, Sadie sidles up beside me with a big grin filling her face.
“So, I know you’ve got the counter today, but can I please…please take the guy at the end?” she begs.
I glance back over my shoulder, finding him still watching me as he waits patiently for someone to take his order. Damn, he’s definitely nice to look at, but actually having to serve him might be another story.
“Go ahead, he’s all yours,” I tell her, knowing that I’d probably just end up embarrassing myself even more anyway. Her already large smile grows and she actually gives a tiny jump and clap in excitement.
“Thanks! I owe you,” she says before skipping towards him.
I just shake my head and continue on my path, turning to deliver the full glass of Coke. As I spin back around to help my next customer, I find him looking over Sadie’s shoulder at me. His eyebrows are pinched and his head is cocked to the side in unspoken question. I give him a small smile and shrug, and my stomach twists. I have a feeling that this won’t be the last time I see him at the counter.
Two
Fifty
“Ma, what have you been putting down the garbage disposal? This fucking thing is jammed again,” I holler. I swear, the last three or four times I’ve come to dinner this thing has been fucked up.
“Don’t mess with it. I’ll just call a plumber to come take a look,” she says as she pops back into the kitchen. “And, Benjamin, I don’t need the language,” she adds with a laugh, starting to cut into a fresh batch of brownies. The scent of chocolate fills the air, making my mouth water.