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Ellie
“Order up!”
I spin around and head for the window to collect food. Sundays are always busy, especially the after-church lunch crowd, and today is no exception. It’s just after two in the afternoon and the diner is showing no signs of slowing down. I’m not going to complain, though. Tips are usually really good on days like today, which is why I don’t mind working them. Plus, we’re a server short tonight, so I’ll be hanging around for the dinner rush too.
Slipping the plates onto my tray, I hoist it up on my shoulder, ignoring the pull between my shoulder blades. Lifting trays of food can be taxing on the body, especially the back. My shoulders carry the brunt of the weight, but my lower back definitely feels the strain.
“BLT club with fries,” I say, setting the first plate down in front of a woman who works at the bank. “And a patty melt with onion rings for you,” I add, placing the second meal down in front of her husband. “Can I get you anything else? Refills?”
“No, we’re good, Ellie. Thank you,” she replies, grabbing the ketchup bottle already sitting on the table.
“I’ll be back to check on you in a few minutes,” I tell them, turning and scanning the mostly full diner. I walk quickly behind the counter and refill a pitcher of cold iced water, the bell chiming over the door as I spin back around. I’m about to tell whoever is entering to find any open table, but the words stall on my lips when I spot my son and his best friend, Matt.
“Hey, Mom,” Brody says as they approach, holding a basketball.
“Good afternoon, boys. What are you two up to?” I ask, offering a big smile.
“Gonna head down to the park and shoot some hoops. Just wanted to tell you,” Brody says. Even though he’s seventeen, he’s still very considerate when it comes to letting me know when and where he’s going to be, which I greatly appreciate. I’m sure he knows how much I worry, even if he’s about to start his senior year of high school and nearing adulthood.
“Sounds like fun. You boys be careful,” I tell them, earning me two cheeky grins.
“We will, Miss D,” Matt hollers as they head out to walk the block and a half down to the park.
“They’re such good boys,” Mrs. Voight, the high school English teacher, says as I pause to refill her water.
“They are. Both work jobs, play sports, and are on the honor roll,” I state proudly, even though I’m certain Mrs. Voight is well aware.
“You’re doing it right, dear. Always remember that,” she says quietly, reaching out and placing her aged hand on top of mine.
My throat is thick with the onslaught of emotion. “Thank you.”
She smiles before returning her attention to her Cobb salad and older sister, Edna. Both ladies have been widows for a few years now and enjoy a mid-Sunday meal together at the diner after their church activities are complete. Mrs. Voight probably should have retired years ago but is still very active and loves to teach. She’s been at it for nearly fifty years now, teaching me in high school way back when too. She’s a gem of a lady, and I’m happy she’s still so involved in both the school and town.
The afternoon passes into early evening, and before I know it, it’s time for me to clock out. I might be the manager, but I’m covering a shift for a high school girl who came down with a summer bug. That means I’m out of here early, which is welcomed, because my back, shoulders, and feet are killing me.
Just as I drop my apron into the bin to be washed, I hear the bell over the door sound once more. “Hey, Mom,” Brody hollers, entering the eatery with his football coach hot on his heels.
“Hi, are you finished playing ball?”
“Yep,” he replies, tossing the ball back and straight into TD’s gut. “Matt had to be home earlier, and Coach was running through the park, so he stopped and played with me for a while.”
“The kid’s gotta killer jump shot,” TD mutters, as Brody slides into a booth. “He beat me twice, and his reward is dinner.”
“We can head upstairs,” I tell them. “I just clocked out.”
“No way,” TD insists. “You’ve been working all day. Sit down and let me buy you both dinner.”
I’m hesitant, mostly because all I want to do is kick off my shoes and put my feet up. Plus, I hate the idea of TD buying me dinner when I’m perfectly capable of throwing together something upstairs. But I can tell by the determined glint in his gorgeous brown eyes, he’s not going to listen to any excuse I have, which is why I end up sliding into the booth closest to me, across from my son. I expect TD to move into the bench with Brody, since Brody left him plenty of room, but am surprised when my friend joins me on my side.
TD fills the seat with his broad shoulders and muscular body, so it doesn’t surprise me his leg brushes against mine. What I wasn’t expecting was the warmth flooding my veins and the butterflies in my stomach at the slightest touch. I imagine the hair on his leg sliding against my smooth skin, which causes my body to flush with desire. Something I try to fight, but it never fails to hit me when he’s near.
“I could slide around onto the other side. Give you more space,” I tell TD, even though I like the feel of his leg pressed to mine.
“You’re fine,” he insists, throwing his arm over the back of the booth. I can feel the heat of his body, which causes a new wave of goosebumps to pepper my flesh. “How was work?”
“Busy,” I state, realizing I should get up and grab three glasses of water.
Before I can ask TD to slide out for a moment, Vivian approaches our table. “Hey, guys. What can I get you to drink?” she asks, placing three menus on the table.
