The Downtown Grill

THE DOWNTOWN GRILL

Christmas was a little less than a month away, and Britt was trying her darnedest to finish off her gift list. She only had a couple of things left to pick up, and was so proud of herself for getting to it before the stores got crazy. Usually, she would leave things to the last minute and inevitably something would be out of stock, or couldn’t be delivered until after Christmas. But not this year. No, siree, Britt was all over Christmas this year.

But with shopping came great fatigue. You can only wander from store to store to store for so long, before a break is required, and sustenance is required. Britt knew exactly where she would go — the diner just up the street. The Downtown Grill was a staple in the neighbourhood. It had survived takeover bids, buyouts, protesters, recessions, and changing trends for over forty years. It wasn’t the most fashionable place, nor was it at all trendy, but Britt loved it. Her grandma used to bring her here for lunch on the weekends. It was her comfort place.

The woman standing at the cash, Gracie, had been here for a long as Britt could remember. Gracie and Gran had been close friends forever. The two families socialized and attended each other’s family events. Britt thought of Gracie as an aunt — a cool aunt who happened to own a diner.

“Britt!” said Gracie, a big smile crossing her face. “I haven’t seen you in forever!”

A grin split Britt’s face. Gracie was right. It had been a couple of years.

“No! Not Britt!” came a voice from the kitchen.

Britt turned towards the pass window, and there was John, Gracie’s husband, head sticking out of the opening, huge smile plastered on is lined face.

“Long time no see, Sweetie! Where you been keeping yourself?” he bellowed.

“Busy, John. Finished school, and I’ve got a new job.”

“Good for you! Glad to hear you’re makin’ out okay!”

“Go sit down,” said Gracie. “I’ll be over in a few. Tea?”

“Yes please.”

Britt made her way over to a window seat. It was a four top, one of only five in the small diner. But there were only a few customers — the lunch rush was over — so she didn’t feel bad about taking up valuable real estate sitting all alone.

Britt looked around the diner. It was the same as it always was. That’s not to say that the place was run-down or dirty. Far from it. When something wore out, or needed to be replaced, Gracie and John always tried to find something similar to the original. They worked to keep the retro diner-vibe alive.  

Gracie came over to Britt’s table carrying a teapot, and an empty mug. Britt smiled to herself. Gracie was still using the same squat metal teapots with the lids that never fit, and the spouts that always leaked all over the table when you tried to pour your tea. She slid in across from Britt.

“I’m sorry to hear about you and Devin," she said.  "Your gran told me you two split up.”

Devin and Britt had been dating for almost two years. While Britt was busy getting her degree, and then busy getting her dream job, Devin was busy getting high. Not a good thing.

“Don’t be sorry, Gracie. Devin is the master of his own universe. He made decisions that I couldn’t live with, so I had to make decisions that were best for me. Including going our separate ways.”

Gracie nodded. “He seemed so nice. Who knew that he was a deadbeat?”

Britt smiled, slightly. “That was Devin’s superpower, Gracie. Everyone liked him. I liked him, too. But we just weren’t right for each other.”

Gracie nodded sagely. “Probably for the best.”

The customers from the booth behind Britt got up and walked towards the register. Gracie got up to cash them out, then tended to the man and woman sitting together at the counter, the only other customers. She filled their coffees, and asked if they needed anything else. She left the cheque on the counter between them.

“What can I get John to make you?” she asked when she returned to Britt’s table.

John stuck his head out the pass-through.  

“Don’t worry, Britt! I gotcha covered! I’ll whip you up something special. Soup to start? It’s black bean!”

“Mmmmm! Yes please!” she said. She had missed John’s amazing homemade soups.

John disappeared back into the kitchen, and a couple of seconds later appeared with a piping hot bowl of black bean soup that he walked to my table himself.  

“Here ya go, honey! Enjoy! It’s really hot, so watch out!”

He set the bowl down in front of Britt with a spoon and some crackers.

“I gotta go make your food. Hope you’re hungry!”

John disappeared into the kitchen.  

Gracie went to the counter and poured herself a glass of water, and rejoined Britt in the booth.

“So, anyone new in your life, now that you’re a single woman?”

Britt laughed. “No, no one serious. It’s only been about four months. And I’ve been so busy with finals, graduating, and getting a job that it’s not even a thing right now. I’m good.”

“And how’s Emily?”

Emily was Britt’s grandmother — Gran. Britt had just been over for a visit the previous evening.

“She’s fantastic, as always,” said Britt, smiling. “When was the last time you saw her?”

Gracie thought for a second.

“Maybe a couple of weeks ago? We got together to play canasta. She won, as usual.”

Britt’s gran was a force to be reckoned with. In her late sixties, she still biked daily, went to yoga, took trombone lessons, and looked after her own house and gardens.  

“Ah, then you haven’t seen her hair.”

Britt smiled. After years and years — for as long as Britt could remember — her Gran had kept her hair long, almost to her waist. Not any more.

“Gran cut her hair. Short. She looks so different.” Britt pulled out her phone, pulled up a picture, and handed it to Gracie.

“Oh my!” gasped Gracie. “I can hardly recognize her!” She continued to look at the photo, zooming in on Gran’s head. “She has such nice thick hair. This cut looks good on her!”

Gracie patted her own hair.  

“Not like me. It’s a race to see who goes bald first, me or John.”

“I heard that!” came a voice from the kitchen.

Britt and Gracie laughed.

The women continued to talk and gossip. Britt had missed the camaraderie and friendship she felt for Gracie and John. They had no children of their own, and had always doted on Britt. There was warmth and security in being loved by these two kind people.

John came out of the kitchen with a heaping plate of shepherd’s pie, a homemade bun, and a side salad.

“My own secret recipe.”

Britt knew that all of John’s recipes were “secret recipes.” That’s what made them taste so good.

He picked up the empty soup bowl, and replaced it with the plates and cutlery. Britt picked up the fork and dug in.

“That’s fantastic, John. Really, amazing!”

John beamed.

The food really was the soul of the Downtown Grill. It was always hearty, always home made, always fresh. Nothing frozen for Gracie and John. Britt thought that was the secret to their success.

“I’ll leave you all my recipes when I die!” John joked.

Britt laughed. John always said that when Britt complimented him on his food.

A trio of teenagers entered the diner. Gracie turned towards them, and John returned to the kitchen. 

Britt watched Gracie approach the boys’ table. Apparently they knew her, because they called her by name.

“The usual, Gracie, please. For all of us.” said one of the boys.

“Three fries, three chocolate shakes. Coming right up!” she said.

As Britt watched, Gracie got to work making three milkshakes. The Downtown Diner was famous for its milkshakes — almost too thick for a straw, fresh ice cream, no chemicals or preservatives, just fresh ingredients. If a milkshake could be considered healthy, then the Downtown Diner served them. The noise of the milkshake maker filled the small dining area.

The front door opened, and two more customers entered the restaurant. Britt’s eyes slid over the pair, and returned to watching Gracie pour the three milkshakes into old-fashioned fountain glasses.

Her eyes snapped back to the pair at the door.

Devin! And, … what was her name. Janet? Jemma? No, Jenn. Devin’s very scary roommate.  

Britt’s dropped her gaze, defiantly not wanting to make eye contact. 

What the hell’s he doing here? He knows this is Gracie and John’s place!

Before she could get angry or annoyed, Devin pulled out a gun

“This is a robbery!” screamed Devin. “Everyone remain calm! Just stay cool.”

Jen stepped from beside him, and pulled out her own handgun.

“Anybody moves, and I will execute every last one of you!” she said waving her gun at the customers.

Oh. My. God! It’s like Pulp Fiction!”

Britt’s heart pounded in her chest.

“Hands up, hands up, hands up!” screamed Jenn.

Britt put her hands up, looking around the diner at the five other customers who had also raised their hands. Britt noticed that John had not come out of the kitchen — yet. Britt knew John kept a baseball bat in the kitchen, as well as a taser. This was not their first robbery.

But it was the first time Gracie recognized the robber, though.

“Devin?” she asked calmly. “Is that you? What are you doing here?”

God, thought Britt, it’s like she just ran into him at the supermarket. She has no fear.

“You know her?” demanded Jen, incredulity written all over her face. “We’re robbing a place where the waitress knows you?”

“Owner,” piped up Gracie.

Britt looked at Devin. He had his crazy eyes — the ones she recognized from all the times she’d seen him high. Darting around, pupils blown, incessant blinking. Crazy, scary, dangerous eyes.

“Yeah,” he said. “I told you I knew this place where they don’t take cards, only cash.”

“You didn’t say they knew you!” screamed the woman.

“I do,” said Gracie looking at Jen. “I’ve known Devin for a couple of years,” she said, turning her gaze back to Devin, “haven’t I, Devin?”

Shhhhhhh, Gracie! Stop talking! pleaded Britt, silently.

“Tha’s right,” he slurred, pointing the barrel of the gun at Gracie, the way you’d point your finger, bouncing it up and down.  He stared at her, hard, his eyes squinting. “You’re that bitch Britt’s aunt, or friend, or something. I should shoot you right now, just for knowing her!”

Before her brain could engage, Britt jumped up.

“Don’t!” she shouted, “If you’re mad at me, you’re mad at me. Not Gracie.”

Devin swung the gun towards Britt.

“What the fuck!” screamed Jen. “Who’s this?”

“Shit,” said Devin. “Britt, the who that ruined my life.”

“Your ex is here? Are you fucking kidding me!” Jen shrilled at him, dropping her gun to her side, forgetting what she was supposed to be doing.

Devin looked at Britt. “I should shoot you!” he said waving the gun in Britt’s face.

Britt held her ground, not cringing, not moving.

“Forget it, man. Let’s go! This is too fucking weird,” said Jen.  

“No way. We came here to get money. We’re gonna get some money. Shooting Bitch-Face Britt here is just a bonus!”

He chuckled at his own humour.

“Idiot!” screamed Jen. “They know who you are! You can’t shoot everybody!”

Jen started smacking Devin on the shoulder with the butt of the gun.  

“How much worse can this get?” she wailed.

“A lot worse!” yelled the woman from the counter, “Police!”

The couple at the counter both stood up, and pointed guns at Devin and Jen. Both had their badges displayed.

“Drop your guns, now!” yelled the man beside her.

Devin and Jen looked at each other. Devin dropped his gun. Jen turned to run out the door.

But John was right behind her, blocking the door, with a taser pointed directly at her.

“Do as the police say. I don’t want to have to use this.”

She looked at John, looked at his taser pointed straight a her chest, and put her hands up. John took the gun from her hands.

“Is this a joke?” asked Devin, obviously too high to sense the danger.  

“Nope,” said the woman. “I’m Detective Waits. This is my partner Detective Ito. You’re both under arrest.”