Closing Time

Grey swore the place was empty upon his arrival. The manager finished closing protocols just before a family emergency struck but prevented him from locking up the diner.

Grey did one last walkthrough to ensure everything was in its place and when he returned to the dining area, ready to leave and lock the doors, an old man was seated in a booth along the windowed wall. Since it was after hours and dark outside, the area was quiet enough to hear the bells above the door ring, but he had heard nothing.

“We’re closed, sorry,” Grey said. The old man looked ahead of him, unhearing.

Grey stepped out from behind the counter, close to where the old man sat. “I’m sorry but we’re closed.”

The old man didn’t budge. Grey felt a flush of frustration. Normally it was rowdy teenagers that refused to leave—on the days he showed up, at least. The last few months proved trying, having met Elle.

Their late-night movie dates and spontaneous road trips down the California coast took up most of his time. Not much of it left to run a smalltown diner his parents thrust upon him, claiming he needed to “grow up.” They wanted him to be just like his siblings: prim, proper, abiding by the rules. He was anything but. Elle encouraged him to be himself, despite what the people in his world told him otherwise.

Besides, that’s what managers were for.

Ready to head out and meet Elle for a last-minute dinner date, his attempt at an apology, Grey jangled the keys in his hand and approached the booth.

“Sir, if you don’t leave, I’ll have to call the cops.” Maybe bringing his phone out as if to dial the police would put some pep in the old man’s step.

It didn’t.

He sat there, unmoving. He only blinked when Grey groaned.

Grey typed in 9 then 1 into his phone when the old man spoke. “I’ll leave,” his voice raspy, his gaze still somewhere in the distance. “If you listen.”

Grey looked up from his phone, confused. Crazy old man, he thought. “Listen to what?”

His cloudy eyes met Grey’s. They might’ve been a bright blue color once. “My story,” he replied, indignant.

Grey rolled his eyes and sighed. Hopefully it’ll be quick.

Grey sat across from the man, placing his phone on the table between them. The screen flashed a candid picture of a smiling blonde girl, a round gold pendant necklace resting on her chest. Walking toward the cameraman, her floral dress floated in the air, her hand pushing back stray strands of hair behind her ear, toes dug into the sand. His favorite portrait of Elle, the outcome better than any posed moment, when she didn’t know he was taking it.

“She’s beautiful,” the old man said, observing the screen before it went black. “Reminds me of the love of my life.”

Flustered, counting away the wasted minutes sitting there, Grey decided to play along, hoping it would speed up this guy’s story. He took a shot in the dark, noticing him alone. “I’m sorry she’s not around anymore.”

The old man let out a small laugh, skin creasing around his eyes. “Oh, no, she’s still around. Just not with me.”

“That’s rough.”

“It is. Every day I think about all I could’ve done to keep her around.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No truer statement was ever spoken, kid. You’d be wise not to follow those around you too closely.”

“Is that what you did?”

“I didn’t, not at first. After I graduated high school, went off on my own, and moved out of the state, things with the family deteriorated. Turns out, all my siblings stayed close to my parents.”

Grey eased into the seat. He thought of his own parents, how they wanted everyone to be close by. That’s what the diner was for. To satisfy their son’s need of wanting to move away, to make something of himself without having to leave town.

He didn’t follow the path they laid out for him, not at first. He moved away but came back. Came back to find his parents and siblings never forgave him for leaving, despite their pretend efforts to make him think otherwise.

Communication was minimal at best. Apologies on his part over text weren’t good enough. He grew up in an actions-speak-louder-than-words household. Ditching the role of diner owner most days of the month was frowned upon, he knew it. But the constant struggle to find himself while pleasing his family only made him distant from it all.

“I get it,” Grey sighed.

“Tough, ain’t it?” the old man shifted in his seat. “One minute you’re a loving, happy family…until you go against their wishes. Thought I could make it all better by following everything they laid out for me in my younger years. Graduate, get a good job, marry a good girl, buy a house, give them grandkids. All my siblings followed suit from the beginning, except me.”

“Making you the outcast.”

The old man raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like you know a thing or two about how this story goes.”

Grey nodded once. A chill traveled down his spine. Maybe this guy had something worth listening to after all. He wasn’t crazy, just another person with a dysfunctional family.

“I’ll tell ya, that girl you got there,” he pointed his chin to Grey’s phone. “If you’re sure she’s the one, don’t let her go. But don’t force marriage on her either, understand?”

Grey dropped his gaze to his fumbling fingers in his lap. “That’s what my parents want though. My sister’s getting married soon and all eyes are on me to go next—I’m the last in line.”

“Listen, I forced Elaine to marry me. Said it was the next step in our relationship, blah, blah, blah,” he waved his hand as if warding off a fly. “I gave her all the excuses in the book.”

He sighed. “She accepted my proposal, but things went downhill. We never made it down the aisle. My parents didn’t like me any better but worst of all, I was without the love of my life.”

Silence ensued.

Grey rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing what to say next.

The old man continued after a deep breath. “I should’ve listened to her. Whenever we talked about the idea of marriage, she’d always say the same thing. Our love should never be confined to a metal circle and a place with four walls.” A small smile crept onto his lips; a longing look having been reminded of them together, happy—excited for a future of their own making.

“She was so carefree, not listening, not watching those around her. She’d mention her friends getting married, birthing babies, but never felt like she was missing out. Her idea of love was unlike what I experienced. But every time I compared our life to that of my parents and my siblings, I grew resentful.”

“So you two fought a lot over what you should do and not what you wanted to do.”

“I was lost, really. Caught between those exact two things. If I had a chance to do it all over, I’d pick her. I wouldn’t force her to marry me and wouldn’t have bought a crumbling house we couldn’t afford, no matter how much either of us worked.”

Grey’s brow furrowed. “What about kids?”

“Never got to that step. When we met, we were both undecided on the matter. Said we’d talk it over if our relationship was headed in that direction. Too much time spent arguing over marriage and finding a home that it was never talked about.”

The old man blinked back tears. Grey felt an ache in his chest. “I’m sorry.”

Buzz, buzz.

Grey’s phone lit up; a text was received from Elle. I’m headed to the restaurant, it said.

They both looked at the phone then at each other.

“Whelp, I better get going,” the old man said, scooting to the edge of the seat. “I know you’re a young man and you’ve got a lot going on, but please consider my advice. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. You’ll only end up miserable. Make your own decisions because, at the end of the day, you’ve only got one life. It’s up to you whether to live it fully, on your own terms, or live it scared in favor of pleasing everyone else.”

Grey nodded, his mind a tangled mess of thoughts. The old man stood up, stretched out his back. Gathering himself, Grey wanted to know one more thing.

“What’s your name, sir?”

The stranger smiled down at the young man, still seated.

“Greyson,” he replied. “With an E, not an A.”

When he stepped outside the door, Grey watched him disappear into the night.

---

Grey locked the diner’s doors behind him. Across the street, the waves crashed along the shoreline. Grey followed the sound onto the beach, not caring if sand got into his shoes. He dug around in his jean’s pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box. Inside was an engagement ring for Elle. An apology for the past and a promise for the future.

A future based on what he should do.

Grey smiled down at the ring, a pretty penny of a thing that held so much meaning—or it was supposed to. Something shiny that told the world what their love was worth, right down to the number of carats.

Then he thought of what comes next. A house and kids. Another way to measure their love.

So what if they didn’t want any of that?

He smiled wider. That’s what Elle told him, the night of their fight. It was over the topics of marriage, buying a house, and having kids.

His reply before answering his manager’s call, “Because it’s what we should do.”

How ridiculous, he thought. How ridiculous all of it was. This internal war of deciding what he should do and what he wants to do, what works for him and Elle. So what if the decisions aren’t replicas of those around them?

He knew the answer.

With a sudden flick of his arm, Grey threw the box into the ocean. Retreating waves sucked it further into the water, never to be seen again.

On my way, he texted Elle, rushing to his car.

No proposal would happen that night, instead replaced by a life they designed, made from decisions outside of others’ influence.

---

Years later, his sister and two brothers are still married, paying a mortgage, and raising kids. They live close to their parents who sometimes babysit and plan family dinners.

But all three can’t say they’re happy.