Melody Anne - Scorched

She also found herself wondering who her benefactor was that stepped up to close the deal on the diner. She knew no one with that kind of money, and even if she did, how would anyone have known she was buying this place? She had no friends she’d confided in about moving to the Northwest or her plans once she got here. She just packed up and left. So, who was it?

She continued her rounds of the tables and booths, taking orders from drippy customers, making small talk with the regulars. She brought their food out quickly and smiled as she placed it on their tables. Her favorite regular was Keith.

Keith was an elderly man who often couldn’t pay for his meal. He was kindly, and so encouraging of her new business venture. It was hard for her to see him order the least expensive thing on the menu, never ordering dessert or extra helpings. Often the only thing he’d order was a cup of coffee. Always, with that cup of coffee she would bring a plate of food, hot and steaming, fresh from the kitchen. He’d eat what he could and ask for a box, which she would fill herself. However, when she brought him his leftovers, there was always plenty more than what he’d left, including a ‘day old’ piece of pie or a take home bowl of chowder. She would ‘forget’ to give him a bill, or forget what he ordered, or how much it was. He never took advantage of her generosity, though. When he could pay, he insisted on paying and when he couldn’t pay, he always repaid her kindness with some small repair she needed done at the diner.

Keith was in his late seventies, gray haired, with soft wrinkled skin. He had blue eyes that twinkled when he teased her and filled with concern when he worried over her. He was average height, maybe a bit heavy for his build, but that only served to make him seem more cheerful. He lived alone after the death of his wife a few years prior to Alexa moving to town. He was the first to befriend her when she was new in town and he reminded her of her dad in a lot of ways. Maybe that’s why they’d formed the friendship they had. Today he was sitting in his usual spot, the booth far to the back where no one else liked to sit because it was by the kitchen.

“Hey Keith,” she said as she approached his table with a big smile. “How’re you liking the weather?”

“Oh, I like it just fine,” he said smiling back at her. “Now what’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?”

“Hey!” she teased back, “this happens to be my place, mister.”

They laughed at the old joke and she took his order. Spaghetti this time and she’d add a little extra meat sauce. He knew she would, but he’d act surprised every time she set the plate down.

She picked up the water pitcher and refilled his glass. She smiled at him and setting the filled glass in front of him said she’d be back with his order in a jiffy. Glancing at the window she caught a glimpse of a man staring back at her through the wet pane. She let out a gasp and covered her mouth with her hand, dropping the nearly empty pitcher. The noise of the shattering pitcher filled the room as all heads turned in her direction.

“What is it? Alexa?” Keith struggled to his feet as fast as he could. “What’s wrong?”

She turned her head to answer him and when she turned back to the window the man was gone. She quickly dropped to the floor and began picking up the larger pieces of broken glass. Her face was pale and strained.

“It…it was…it was my dad,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “He was there for just a second, but it was him, I know it.”

She was picking up the glass as fast as she could, fighting back the tears. Keith knew the history of her dad and fiancé. She’d told him the story one night when the diner had only just opened and there were no customers yet.

“You’re working too hard, Alexa,” said Keith as he softly patted her shoulder, “You need to take some time off and get some rest. The mind can play tricks on you when you’re as worn out as you are.”

With the excitement over, conversation in the room resumed after a few concerned looks in her direction.

Alexa smiled weakly up at Keith and stammered, “I…I’m okay…it just caught me off guard, that’s all. It was probably someone that looked like him. Sorry to cause a panic. I’m fine. Thanks, Keith.”

Tahleah hurried out of the kitchen with broom and dustpan in hand to help sweep up the glass.

“Are you feeling okay?” she asked, searching Alexa’s face, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Alexa smiled her best smile and stood with help from Keith.

“I’m fine. Just have slippery hands, I guess. Thanks for the help, Tahl.”

She composed herself and straightening her shirt, she walked to the front of the diner and around the end of the counter. There was a new customer at the counter and as she came around the corner she asked him the same question she felt she’d asked a thousand times that day.

“What can I get you?”

She searched his face waiting for an answer. He perused the menu looking for what he might like to eat, not looking to the lowly waitress. When he finally did look up, his beautiful green eyes gazed at her from under wet and windblown sandy colored hair. Despite his boyishly handsome face, he looked tall. He was just a bit taller than she was, even sitting down…and he continued to stare, and stare and stare.

On any other day she would have seen his attention as flirting and she’d get angry, want to flip him off and end up keeping all that to herself. But today she was feeling a bit off balance and just wanted to take his order and get away from him. He continued to stare at her.

“Sir? Your order?” she said with no small amount of impatience. “Did you want to---“

“Oh…Oh, yeah…sorry,” he said obviously blushing and looking down at the menu. “Uh, yeah, I’ll take the number three.”

And that was how this sandy haired stranger came to be called “Ham and Eggs.”

“Can I get you anything else?”

He finished his meal and was slowly and deliberately drinking his now nearly cold coffee.

“Well,” he said, his placid green eyes raising to meet hers, “You could tell me what time your shift is over and where you’d like to go when you’re free.”

This was the same thing he’d said last Friday, and the Friday before, and the Friday before that. Over and over again he’d asked her that same question. She could see ears on his head, but were they not working correctly? Was he incapable of hearing with those ears?

For a month now, since Ham and Eggs first appeared at the diner, it was the same exchange. Every Friday she wanted to give him the single digit salute and storm off. However, she had to think what that would look like to her other customers. At the same time, she wondered why this guy made her so angry. Maybe it was because he appeared to look forward to her reaction every time he made his little speech. Maybe it was because he thought so much of himself that he figured she’d just melt and give him whatever he wanted. Oh how that infuriated her. So, this time, instead of just turning and walking into the kitchen, she thought she’d mix it up a little for him.

“Listen…whoever you are…I work 24/7, I don’t eat, I don’t sleep and I don’t ‘ go ’ anywhere, especially with someone I don’t know. Now, is there anything else I can get you?”

The smile never left. His eyes playfully searched her face for what seemed like hours. She hated his confident air.

“No,” he said, finally looking down at the empty plate and cup of cold coffee in front of him, “It was delicious. Thanks.”

Trails of Tabasco Sauce circled the empty plate and, as usual, he’d eaten like he hadn’t seen food in weeks.