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“Speaking.”
“It’s Greg from Bean Me Up. We spoke yesterday.”
“Oh! Hi, Greg!”
She walked into a nearby Dollar Store, not to buy anything but to hear the phone better. Her heart was racing. The store bell chimed as she walked in.
“I noticed on your application you said you could work as soon as possible,” Greg said. “Would you be able to make it here in about thirty minutes? We had a call-in and could really use your help.”
“I got the job,” Delilah said, phrasing it not as a question but a disbelieving statement.
“You did!” Greg laughed. “Congratulations!”
Delilah pumped her arm in excitement and spun around on her heel.
“You probably won’t see much of me. But Miranda speaks quite highly of you! You’ll be working with her today, and on most of your shifts I’d wager. You can make it in today, right?”
Delilah stood smiling for several seconds before she realized she hadn’t given him an answer.
“Absolutely.” Delilah failed to mask her enthusiasm. “I’ll be right there!”
“Good to hear it! Welcome aboard, and we’re glad to have you!”
Leaving the Dollar Store, Delilah rushed to the diner, making it just a minute too late. Considering she’d only just been told she had the job and called in, Miranda was completely understanding.
Before her first shift, they offered her a waitress uniform identical to Miranda’s—a pure white outfit with a green apron, green collar, and green buttons.
She panicked when, after carrying somebody’s food to their table, the customer insulted her for messing up their order. She had made the mistake of offering them white toast rather than wheat, and the customer distracted her about it at the wrong moment. The tray tipped, and she spilled coffee all over herself, effectively ruining her first day.
“Bit rusty, aren’t you?” Miranda asked, as Delilah tried in vain to blot out the stain with a napkin. “Don’t worry. I can show you a trick for getting that out.”
She told her to take vinegar, laundry detergent, and water to spot clean it before washing. At the end of her shift, her feet were sore and her energy was depleted. Returning to work was going to take some getting used to.
She bought vinegar on her way home and then applied the mixture as instructed before washing her outfit in the hotel washing machine. Delilah was relieved when it worked.
She collapsed in bed that evening, before getting the best sleep she’d had in weeks. As her eyelids became heavy, and sitcom laughter played from the hotel television, she thought of how cramped she felt in this small hotel room.
That night, she dreamt that she was running through the city streets on all fours, shifted into wolf form. The full moon shone down on her from above, bouncing off the windows and striking the pavement.
Only nobody cared that she was a wolf. She wasn’t afraid of endangering herself, or exposing herself to the wrong people. She was just free to run. As she ran, she was joined by so many more wolves, with eyes and fur of every conceivable color. She felt truly at peace, roaming with her kin.
She woke up in a cold sweat, her alarm blaring. It had felt so surreal.
In a few more days, the full moon would hang high in the sky, and Delilah would transform, becoming her wolf. She had heard that some packs on the West Coast could stifle their wolves and resist transforming but at great cost. Unfortunately for Delilah, that was not an option for her.
Over the next few days, the dreams were going to continue. It was how her mind signaled the change. As it was, she could either drive out to the country, risk being caught by animal control, or worse, if she was seen transforming, cause a national incident.
On her third shift at the cafe, a harsh downpour fell over the city. Delilah could take a bus and risk being late to work, or she could take an umbrella. She opted for walking.
She struggled to dodge the splashing rainwater of passing cars. Stretches of pavement near bus stops narrowed significantly, forcing her to cling to the walls, umbrella in hand, if she wanted to stay dry.
But by the time she had arrived in front of the diner, she was still mostly dry. She felt an enormous sense of relief, proud of herself for not ruining her third shift. She turned to approach the door, and a honking, speeding Corvette threw water all over her, soaking her uniform.
Delilah wanted to scream at the driver, who had sped along the one street in the city that wasn’t swarming in traffic. Instead, she took a deep breath, collected herself, and walked into the cafe, forcing the most believable smile she could manage.
“I’m soaking wet, Miranda!” Delilah called out, noting the absence of customers. “I’m gonna need to grab an apron from the back!”
She fought to find an apron that actually fit her, settling on one that was about two sizes too large. She clocked in, making her way back to the front, when a feeling of panic set in. As she stepped out from the sliding diner door, Delilah caught Miranda’s eyes. She stared right at her, smiling patiently.
