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As the morning wore on, more people trickled in. Each fresh face through the door was a small victory, a sign that maybe,just maybe, this could work, and my cautious optimism began to solidify into something real. The proper test would be the things I’d changed on the menu from the ones Lily used to offer.
For the opening, I’d gone for putting a twist on the scrambled eggs, adding a pinch of smoked paprika and some fresh chives. It was a minor change, but I hoped it would make an impression on the people who’d once visited Lily for food.
Fred from the Mercantile was the first of the customers to order it. He eyed the dish with suspicion as I set it in front of him. “What’s this?”
“Scrambled eggs.”
He poked at it. “What’s the green stuff?”
“Try it and let me know what you think,” I encouraged, my heart in my throat.
He poked at it for a moment before taking a bite. The diner fell into a hushed anticipation. Levi, who was still enjoying his breakfast, leaned over. “Well, Fred? How is it?”
Fred didn’t answer straight away. Then, with a mouthful of eggs, he said, “Leave me alone, I’m having a moment.”
Relief washed over me, followed by a ripple of laughter from the other customers. Levi shot me a thumbs-up from his seat, and I couldn’t help but smile.
As the morning turned into lunchtime, the menu changed a little, still offering breakfast, but adding a couple of cooked dishes, including my own mac ‘n’ cheese, a classic cheeseburger, and a vegetarian quinoa salad bowl—the last was a stretch I knew, and I only sold three all day. Of the three people who ordered the salad bowl, two of them wanted me to add bacon, and a side of the gooey mac ‘n’ cheese. All too soon, it was afternoon, and the steady flow of customers continued.
It was a start.
Each plate I served, each “thank you” and “this is delicious” I received, built up my confidence. This was only day one, but it was going well. Abby came in for the first handover of the pastries I’d baked for her, and I handed them over with confidence, but inside, I was a wreck. She took a moment to check out the pastries,andthe customers, satisfied that I wasn’t stealing all her trade, and commenting on the pastries I’d done for her—more than adequate.
Faint praise, but, at least, she was happy.
Standing behind the counter, looking at the filled tables, I had this incredible sense of pride. The diner wasn’t just a business; it was a safe place for me and Fox, it was in a town where I could be myself, where most of the people welcomed me, and I couldn’t help smiling.
Fox arrived home before we closed, buzzing with excitement over the opening and wanting to hear everything. He tried the eggs, poked at a quinoa salad, and wolfed down a cheeseburger. Then, he grinned at me, ketchup around his mouth.
“This is great, Dad.”
Just those simple words were enough to make everything feel lighter.
Finally, it was time to close. When spring arrived and people wanted to eat out, we would extend our hours, but I would need at least one person to work the counter before I could organize that big splashy extended opening event. I added hiring someone to my mental to-do list, along with seeing if I could afford it. Maybe it was worth dipping into my meagre savings to give someone a job here?
Don't get ahead of myself.
As I wiped down the counter at the end of the day, the diner empty once more, I was blown away that people had at least given me a chance, and I was determined to make the most of it. This was just the beginning, and I couldn’t wait to see what the future held. Particularly, when there was a knock on the window, and Chris stood there with a pretend puppy dog big-eyed pleading expression to be let in. Which I did.
And he kissed me.
“Today was awesome,” I blurted, as he leaned on the back of a booth and hugged me tight.
“You’re awesome,” he announced.
Right here and now, I wanted Chris to know everything about today, about Fred and his chives, and about the three quinoa salads, but instead of it all spilling out in a mess of information, I cupped his face and stared into his eyes.
“I really like you,” I blurted. “Really like you. I want to… it’s the first time I’ve wanted to fall in love.”
His eyes widened, and he kissed me again. “Same.”
“Yeah?” I asked.
This time, he smoothed his thumbs on my cheekbones. “Oh, yeah.”
“I think that just tipped me over the edge.”
And that was how we declared we were falling for each other with Fox in the background, making kissy noises and hiding his eyes.
