Page 14 of Truck

“It will suit us easily,” Mitchell states as he walks past, giving me a wink as he climbs the stairs.

Xero shakes his head. “It’s a long time since we had somewhere with a solid roof over our heads. It’s gonna be nice to stay in one place for a while.”

“You guys may like it here and stay permanently. You have all the brothers to meet yet. But, tonight get settled in and I’ll see you at the gas station eight sharp in the morning,” I say it with a hint of their boss in the tone, but let myself out and I don’t stop the smirk on my face thinking that they may have just gotten themselves tied to the MC without even knowing it.

As I’m driving to the clubhouse, my mind wanders to the work we’ve done today and the fact that the three of them arrived. I wonder if Cilla will have any spooky people to speak to the three of them? That’ll be interesting!

Chapter 8

RORY

Working the morning shift is very different from the later shift I’ve gotten used to. Wet mopping, setting the chairs down, wiping all tables, and generally checking that everything is right for the day.

Shelby opens the door and turns to me. “Get ready for the rush. Any minute, our breakfast crowd is going to rush through the door wanting coffee and their first meal of the day.”

“Okay, Shelby, I’ll be ready.” I quickly head to the serving hatch and shout to Tracy who is the cook this morning. “Are you ready, Tracy? Shelby is going home in a minute, and Jill is late.”

“I’m ready, and I’ll not get behind today…I hope!” Tracy grimaces, and I giggle because Tracy works hard, but she’s not the best person for being organized.

“I’ll leave as soon as Jill arrives, Rory,” Shelby says annoyed. “This is the third time she’s been late.”

“Maybe she’d be better as an afternoon or evening employee?” I do my best to calm Shelby who I can see is gritting her teeth.

“Maybe she is best being replaced, Rory.” Sighing Shelby shakes her head. “She took the job on, knowing the hours she’d have to work. The shift is a shorter one than the late shift you have been working. It’s only five hours, and it is a decent salary I’m paying…”

Before Shelby can say more, the door opens and Jill rushes in, red-faced and looking sorry. “I’m sorry, Shelby. I had to get my brother's things ready for him and my mother…”

“I don’t want your excuses, Jill. If you can’t be here on time, it’s maybe not the right job for you.” Before Jill can respond, or for that matter I can say anything, Shelby is out of the diner slamming the door behind her.

I look at Jill, and I can see she’s close to tears. I’m just thankful that nobody has come in for breakfast yet.

“Are you okay?” I ask tentatively.

“Personally, I’m fine. But my mother has been having issues since she had her accident six months ago. She isn’t recovering as she should, and I have to look after my brother. It’s hard when I have everything to get done before I come to work.”

Shit, I’m thinking, should I ask or not? “What about asking if you can have an afternoon or evening swap? Would that make it easier?”

“Not really. The mornings I have to get Grady ready for school, make sure he is organized. In the afternoon I have to be around when he comes back from school, and I have to be there in the evening. I just don’t know what to do, Rory. What I’m earning is only just keeping us afloat, and now medical bills are piling up.” Jill has tears tracking her cheeks, and I step closer, give her a hug and send her to the staff area to clean up.

The morning progresses well, and Jill is a good worker. She’s fast and efficient. My mind is ticking over what she has said, and I’m wondering if there is any way that I can help. But the hours on the working shifts are not good for Jill’s situation.

I have an idea how we could help Jill, but it would mean all the shifts being agreeable. I’ll have to put it to Shelby first.

I’m surprised how many men from the biker club come in for breakfast, and I ask Tracy why, since Jill told me a few minutes ago that they have two cooks at the clubhouse.

Tracy gives me a beaming smile. “Well, I’m a better cook I suppose.”

A burst of laughter takes me by surprise, and I shake my head at her. “Oh, you are so modest, sweet Tracy,” I respond when I get my laughter under control. The comment earns me a wink from her as she turns back to cooking a mountain of pancakes.

“Morning, Jill,” a biker with Bowie on the front of his leather vest greets, and he does it with a sparkle in his eyes. I look at Jill and see that she is giving him a cutting scowl. Not my business, and I’m not asking!

Nine-thirty and the initial rush is over. The bikers have all gone, they work at the roll off/dumpster business from the conversation I overheard. Turning to Jill, I can easily tell she’s relaxed since they left.

I clean tables, pass dishes through the serving hatch to Jill who is helping to fill the dishwasher, and clear the kitchen mess that Tracy inevitably has after the morning rush.

I’m filling the salt and pepper shakers when the door opens, and a lady walks into the diner with a young child in a stroller. A pretty baby girl from the abundance of pink that surrounds her.

As she takes a seat, she pushes the stroller as close to the wall as she can so it’s not in anyone’s way.