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“Morning,” he grunts back at me, his familiar beanie on his head.
David is a bigger guy with a big beard. He should look out of place at the ‘50s style diner, but somehow he fits right in. He worked here for the old owner and I was lucky enough to convince him to stay and work for me.
I hang my things up in the back office, tying my black hair up in a high ponytail before I head out to the floor.
“Hey, Ezra,” I greet the young waiter.
“Hey, Ms. Park.”
Ezra dips into the kitchen to grab some more napkins for a table and I head over to the coffee pot and start making another pot since we’re low.
The Virgin Street Diner is already busy and I get to work, refilling drinks and taking the orders of anyone who sits at the counter. I make sure that the coffee pots never run out and check everyone out.
The Virgin Street Diner is a retro kind of diner with a red and white checkered floor and a jukebox on the back wall. There’s even an old-school cash register up front next to the dessert display.
Things start to take a lull around 10 am and I help Ezra refill the salt and pepper bottles on all of the tables and booths. Amelia comes in at 11:30 and things start to pick up again.
The Virgin Street Diner is one of the more popular places in Cherry Falls and we usually stay busy throughout the day. We’re in the middle of the afternoon lull whenhewalks in.
Heath Winters.
He comes in everyday around 2 pm and sits at the counter. Ezra is getting ready to leave for the day and Amelia is in the back, refilling the ketchup and mustard bottles, so it’s just me and him out front.
“Your usual?” I ask as Heath sits down.
He always orders the same thing. The Holy Roller Burger, medium well, with French fries, a glass of water, and a slice of cherry pie.
“Yeah,” he grunts, settling onto the stool at the counter. “How’s your day going, Caroline?”
He asks me this every day. Unfortunately, things usually spiral downward from there. I finish writing out his order on my pad and add it to the queue.
“Good. How about you?”
“Can’t complain,” he says, taking a sip of his water as I set it down in front of him.
Heath is a bit of a loner. He’s gruff and can be short with people. He and I got off on the wrong foot when I first got to town and we’ve never seemed to come back from it. I know that he tries to be civil, but it always seems to rub me the wrong way.
“Got any plans for this weekend?” Heath asks as I grab him his slice of pie.
“I’m taking Charlotte to Wild Ridge Mountain. She’s been dying to go camping, so we’re headed up there for the night.”
“Sounds like fun. Have you ever been camping before?” he asks.
“Um, no, but how hard can it be, right?”
“You should stop by the Trading Post. I can give you a discount on some of the gear and show you how to use it.”
His offer has me taken aback and feeling a little antsy. Normally this is about the time he says something to piss me off, such as he likes my hair better up because I don’t look so overheated, or that I should take a break and get off of my feet more.
I know it’s just me. Heath isn’t the type to be purposefully mean. It’s just that I was asked so many questions about if I could really handle caring for Charlotte before I was allowed to be her legal guardian, and now any hint of someone doubting my abilities has me feeling on edge.
I know what I’m capable of and I hate when people doubt me.
Plus, who tells a woman that she looks overheated? Alright, maybe it is a little bit Heath.
“Uh, thanks. Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”
His order comes up and I pass it across the counter to him, sliding his bill after.
