One Night at the Diner

One Night at the Diner

By Halo Roberts

Jenny

My feet hurt. Not a shock when I’ve been on them for 13 hours. Phil promised to get another girl to cover the second shift, but also not a shock, he ‘forgot’. My hair feels like it’s soaked up most of the grease from the fryer that bubbles away back in the kitchen. I’m not sure what the smear on the front of my apron is, but it looks weirdly like bird crap. It has been a day.

A table of high school kids have finished up and I plaster my happy face on as I wave them out the door. I built you guys four banana splits and kept you in pop refills all night, but thanks for the two-dollar tip. I live to serve. I snicker at myself as I mentally picture their faces if I dropped a quick curtsy.

Jacob, the bus-boy, appears from the back and begins quickly clearing the tables, he’s a good kid with an easy smile. Glancing around at the remaining customers, I head behind the counter to grab a pitcher of water. As I make the rounds, checking on the last two tables, filling waters and chatting, I hear the bells over the front door jingle. Sweet, supposed to close up in ten minutes, fingers crossed he’s not in the mood for broasted chicken.

The man that walks in doesn’t look much like the usual customers. Rita’s is not the ‘upscale’ kind of diner, it’s pretty old school. It’s also far enough away from the city lights and the interstate that we only have regular customers. You can get a cheap cup of coffee and a good piece of pie. Let’s just say there is no ‘appetizer’ section on the menu, which is an uber-classy light up board above the counter that no one ever looks at anyway, but everything is homemade.

His suit probably cost more than my car, and I don’t know much about watches, but his appears to be designed to make a ‘statement’. He’s a little older than me, not much, late 20's I’d guess, with well-cut dark hair, strong features and nice broad shoulders. A hint of stubble darkens his jawline and at that point I stop staring like an idiot. This isn’t a ‘wait to be seated’ place, so I wave a hand at the mostly empty diner.

“Grab a seat anywhere, I’ll be right over.” Flashing my pro-waitress smile, I head behind the counter, fill a glass with ice water and follow him to the booth at the end by the big picture window. He nods as I set the water down and then we have a little mini stare-down until I remember he hasn’t been here before. 

“Sorry, the menu is on the wall above the counter,” I point, but serious brown eyes keep steady contact with mine and I feel myself starting to blush. Did it just get hot in here? 

“Um, maybe if you know kind of what you’re hungry for I can help?” Get ahold of yourself Jenny, cripes, he’s not that good looking...yes he is...whatever! Do your job girl! Unaware of my internal battle, he stares at me for another ten seconds.

“I apologize,” his voice is low and beautiful and sounds like money. Old, old money. Why is he here, he could buy this place with the change in his car seats. He continues through my musing.

“I’ve had a rather awful day. Could you just bring me a plate of the best thing the kitchen produces?” He sighs, mustering up a tiny smile. 

“Sure thing,” best thing...hmmm. He nods and his gaze drifts away from me to stare out the window. A light rain has started to speckle the glass, every drop shining as the sun sets on a beautiful September evening. Feeling a little flustered, I head for the kitchen. This man needs comfort food, and that’s what Gloria does best.

Queen of her realm, Gloria is about four feet tall and four feet wide. She has the kitchen set up so that she doesn’t actually have to walk anywhere, she just turns in a circle and cooks up a storm. If it’s out of arm’s reach, she hollers for Jacob. Prep counter in front of her, fridge to her left, fryer and grill behind, she likes to joke that it’s a ‘one-butt kitchen’.

“Gloria, there’s a guy out there that needs some love on a plate, what do you think?” Gloria expertly flips a couple of burgers and sets two plates on the counter and then glances at me before looking out the service window. 

“Something special huh? I’ve probably got enough left for one good plate of the chicken-noodle-taters,” she muses, assembling the burgers quickly and setting them up in the window.

“Take these burgers out Honey, I’ll fix him up.” She flaps a hand at me to get out of her way, reaching for the lid on a simmering pot.

“Okay, okay, I’m goin’,” I sass at her with a wink as I grab the plates. A couple of coaches wolf the burgers down like pros, and they’ve paid and left by the time Gloria pings the bell in the window. I quickly ring up the Nelson’s, an older couple that come in every night for dinner. Helping them out the door, I head back to get my last customer his dinner.

Gloria nailed it. I’m hoping she has just enough left to make a plate for me as I carry the food to his table. Creamy mashed potatoes are covered with a heaping serving of Gloria’s special chicken and noodles. She rolls the noodles from scratch and cuts them with a butter knife on the oldest butcher block known to man. Chicken stock gravy full of meat and veggies that’s been simmered for hours tops the whole works.

Stopping to grab silverware rolled up in a paper napkin, and a big glass of iced tea, I take the whole works over to his table and set it down carefully. His eyes widen appreciatively, and he doesn’t have to work so hard to find his smile this time. 

“Wow,” he groans softly and a small laugh escapes my lips.

“Enjoy,” I give him a smile of my own and busy myself behind the counter as he starts eating.

Michael

I don’t recall what brought me into this particular diner as I drove aimlessly out of the city, but this food would bring me back. What’s been a complete trainwreck of a day is almost erased by a plate of chicken, noodles, and mashed potatoes. Washing down every bite with a gulp of iced tea, I barely realize that I’ve finished the plate and my glass is close to empty until the waitress appears with a pitcher. 

Light brown curls are escaping the bun her hair is wound into, and large hazel eyes with flecks of green meet mine. Her smile reveals dimples in each cheek as she refills my glass and nods at my plate.

“Gloria makes magic in that kitchen, huh? Maybe turning your day around a little?” Her voice is light and musical, the errant thought flits through my brain that I would wager she sings like an angel.

“Indeed she does, and indeed it has,” it’s easy to smile back, a relief in fact, I haven’t felt like smiling in days. The bell at the kitchen window pings imperiously and we both glance back. 

“Jenny, come take this out,” the cook calls, the bell pings again and the waitress, Jenny, turns with a small sigh.

“You’re the only one here, what is tha-? Oh…” she lets loose a small chuckle, “hope you’ve still got room.” Quickly walking to the kitchen she pours a large glass of milk and takes another plate out of the window and brings both to my table. My stomach groans as she sets the milk and a large piece of cherry pie loaded with whipped cream in front of me.

“There’s no bad day that can stand up to Gloria’s pie,” Jenny sagely promises, flashing her dimples again. Leaning her hip against the table, she crosses her arms comfortably.

“Does she have another piece?” The words are out of my mouth before I’ve considered them. Jenny looks at me in surprise.

“I know it’s good, but you’re going to want two? I can check,” she shakes her head at me. I speak again before she can turn to go to the kitchen. In for a penny…

“No, I was wondering if maybe you’d join me.” At my words, she stops like she walked into a wall. This is why I should always think before I speak. This. Right here. This really awkward moment I’ve gotten myself int-

“Well...okay,” she breathes, the faintest blush staining her cheeks, “be right back.” Walking back to the kitchen once more, I hear her call to the cook, and then the cook’s face appears briefly in the service window. Jenny soon returns with her own glass of milk and plate of pie, still blushing, and settles carefully into the booth across from me. 

Eyes on her food, she takes a small bite and then looks up at me, chewing reflectively before reaching for her milk and taking a drink.

“Do you want to talk about your day? It must have been a doozy if it got you to drive far enough to find this place.” Her gaze is warm and open, and I find myself wanting to unload every detail, but I don’t. How does one tell the story of their best friend since primary school, and the business they built together right out of college, and the millions that I lost today because he made some terrible decisions without consulting me, and the friendship that can’t be repaired, and the life I have to start over…

“That bad huh?” Jenny reaches across the table and lays her hand on mine, and I realize I’ve been quiet for too long.

“Yes, it’s a long story, but here’s the short version. I trusted a friend and that brought me to the brink of financial ruin. I’ve learned many lessons this week, and lost a friend today.” Shrugging uncomfortably, I take a bite of pie, eyes on the food, it hurts to admit it out loud. Ruined, so much to rebuild, alone. 

“Oh,” she whispers softly, “yeah, if there was a prize for bad days, that would be in the running.” I bark a laugh and she smiles. Giving my hand a light squeeze, she lets go and continues eating, not demanding anything, just offering comfortable silence.

After a few minutes, we begin again, silently agreeing not to discuss my problems. Jenny and I talk into the wee hours, about everything and nothing. The cook and the bus-boy have long since turned off the kitchen lights and departed for home. Finally, the length of the day catches up with us and as Jenny tries unsuccessfully to hide a small yawn, I regretfully say my goodbyes.

Walking her to her car, she unlocks the door and then turns back to me. We stare at each other for a moment and then lean in at the same time. Her lips are warm and soft under mine. Her hands slide around my neck and I put my arms around her waist, holding her close. When we break apart, our breath mingles in the cool night air. I kiss her again, softly, tuck her safely in her car, and watch her drive away.

Gloria

He’s back. Every dang night, Michael walks in, about twenty minutes before we close, that rascal with sparkly brown eyes. The night they met, they sat up ‘til who knows when, talking, and Jenny was on cloud nine.

It’s been two months and he hasn’t missed a night, he always sits in that booth on the end and just asks for dinner. Every night he pops his head through the kitchen door and thanks me for the meal. Every night he waits for her to finish her work and walks her to her car.

The way she giggles and carries on, it sounds like they’ve been together every day she has off work too. 

Tonight he seems nervous, fidgety. I’ve been keepin’ an eye on him through the service window. If he breaks her heart I’ll have Jacob bust him up. I love that girl like a daughter.

Jenny walks over to his booth to bring him a piece of pie and tonight he doesn’t ask her to join him like he usually does. Instead he stands up out of the booth, takes a knee, holds up a ring, and asks our Jenny to marry him. 

She says yes.

The End