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CHAPTER5
~ MILLIE ~
It was the summer of my sixteenth year when I last worked in a diner.
It was one of those cheesy throwback places that had an old jukebox and a 1950s vibe that I think my grandma or even my great-grandma would have appreciated more than I could.
That was my first job, and I loved it. I was proud of the way I could turn around someone’s day with nothing more than a smile and a cup of coffee or plate of steaming hot pancakes.
The idea of it made me feel powerful in my tiny corner of the world.
I’m reminded how much I enjoyed that job on days like today, when the diner I work at now is buzzing with activity and nearly every seat is filled with a customer.
Just like back then, I love the almost frantic atmosphere. It’s different, I imagine, from those upscale restaurants where they probably try to keep the chaos to the kitchen and back rooms. In a diner, I can hear Bo shouting each time an order is ready, or Penny or Janet berating him because he gave a customer fries instead of chips.
I can hear the cha-ching of Harriet’s old cash register that she insists on using—a contraption I have to admit kind of lends some more character to the place. And most of all, I love the jingle of the door chimes every time someone enters because it means more money padding our bottom line.
Every minute of the day pulls me in a dozen different directions. And it puts a smile on my face, just like it did when I was sixteen.
I exchange a few pleasantries with a tourist family who just walked in as I ring up an order, and then pass a stack of plastic-covered menus to Penny.
Then I answer the phone, wipe down a counter, and fill someone’s urgent request for a coffee refill nearly simultaneously.
And I love it.
Sometimes I think it’s a wonder I didn’t always work in a restaurant. But then I think of my family.
After that summer working in my hometown’s diner, my brother Harris started his first year at the U.S. Naval Academy. And shortly after that, our household erupted in joy as Maggie got her acceptance letter to Julliard in New York City.
And it became abundantly clear to me that a career working in a diner simply wouldn’t cut it in my family. Harris went on to become a SEAL—essentially a freaking superhero. Maggie is a composer, so accustomed to having her name appear in the credits of movies that she doesn’t even bother telling me about it anymore.
Me? I’m more of an average Jane, so to speak. No jaw-dropping talents or superpowers.
But I’ve been a hard worker from the get-go. And that’s what got me dual enrolled at our local community college while I was still in high school, a pace that set me up to eventually have my MBA by the time I was barely 23.
I frown briefly at the thought of how my life has shifted since then.
I ring up another customer, and then cover for Penny as she takes a five-minute break.
I might have ended up right back at square one—working in a diner just like I did at sixteen. But I’m happier now—happier even though I’ll be facing unemployment in three short months.
I brighten at the sound of the door chimes, and my smile widens even more when I see the man who walks in.
Dax flashes me that same grin that I enjoyed seeing this morning when I woke up. And Iswearit was just his grin I was looking at as I greeted my newly minted housemate in my kitchen these past two mornings, even though the guy should have enough sense to put on a shirt when he’s around an undersexed woman.
I know it’s only been one weekend, but I’m already thinking he’s the perfect housemate. Quiet, responsible, helpful… and having him around is just the kind of pleasant distraction I need as I peruse job listings online to no avail.
“Hey,” he greets me, his tone dripping with that casual confidence the probably comes from looking like a Hollywood A-lister. “I was just at the house and took the dog out. She seemed like she needed it. That okay?”
How could my heartnotgo pit-a-pat every time he takes my dog out without me even asking him to? It saves me a heap of time during my day.
“Of course,” I reply. “And thanks. But I was going to take a break in about an hour to do that. You should be out on those waves.” I nod in the direction of the ocean.
“I was this morning. But they got a little too fierce for me. I’m actually not that good.” He looks to both sides of him as though he’s letting me in on a secret. “Just don’t tell anyone.”
I like the way he talks to me now; there’s a rapport between us that feels as though he’s been renting that room for a lot longer than he actually has. “Your secret’s safe with me… and the six other people at this counter who heard you.”
Mrs. Marge, the self-described “ancient” woman sitting to Dax’s left shoots him a grin. “It’s a small town, honey. We already know you’re a bad surfer.”
