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Chapter 3
Pieces of glasslittered the ground and I bent, picking up the larger, jagged shards to throw away before gathering the rest with a broom and dust pan. Ignoring the black hole in my stomach that made my skin clammy and cold, and my chest vibrate with the tempo of my heart, I tried to take calming breaths as I finished cleaning. Cleo meowed from the doorway as I stepped over the debris on thefloor.
"Hey pretty girl," I whispered, "stay rightthere."
She sat and continued to meow as I cleaned up the glass on the floor and counter. Though my stomach growled, I sighed at the soup and picked out the pieces of glass that had managed to make it into the cup. After making sure I had removed all of the glass from the soup, I redeposited it back into the refrigerator.We were low enough as it was on food. I rummaged through the drawers and found some prepacked deli ham. I grabbed a knife, sliced it up into bits, and dropped the chunks into a small plastic dish. Along with a bowl of water, I placed the offering on the floor by the entrance to the laundryroom.
"Okay, you can come eat now." I gestured the cat closer. "Sorry about that. She's just not feeling welltoday."
Even as the hallway clock chimed again, I sat and scratched Cleo behind the ears. She licked her whiskers and meowed back at me. Rubbing the cat kept my fingers from shaking, but I felt like I could still feel the air above my head whistling as the glass grazed my hair before splintering into what seemed like a millionpieces.
When Cleo was done eating, I gave her one last kitty kiss goodbye and headed for the door, purse in hand. I paused before I left, head tilted toward the hallway. I rushed back to my room and dug through my crumpled jeans, plucking the business card from the pocket and shoved it into mybag.
My purse was actually a satchel sewn together with bits and pieces of cloth. I had fallen in love with the design the first time I saw almost an exact replica hanging in Erika's closet and as a birthday gift last year, she had made me my own. It thumped and rattled against my leg with the tin of nearly empty mints hitting an old paperback from a library give away I had received a couple months back. I kept meaning to read it, but with so much to do, I hadn't had thetime.
Alex’s Diner came into view and the gas station to the side of it. The Carpo Express gas station was lit up like a Christmas tree even though the sun had yet to set. A couple of Hispanic kids hung out by the ice machine on the corner of the building. Two older boys spoke in Spanish next to a short, young girl with big, round cheeks and a dirty, white t-shirt that didn't quite fit. She smiled and waved as I walked past and I did thesame.
Joanna was flirting with a five top of guys – five guys ranging in age from early 20’s to late 30s – as I opened the door. The sound of Carl's hip-hop station from the kitchen had quickly become a soothing ambiance in these past few months and I was thankful for the familiar sound today as it calmed some of my frayed nerves. A tall, middle-aged man with a short crop of hair wiped down the counter, throwing a dish towel over hisshoulder.
"Afternoon,Harlow."
"Hi,Alex."
The owner of the diner rarely ever came in to actually work the diner. From my few conversations with him, I knew that he owned a few other businesses and properties that kept him busy, but every now and then, he would get an urge to sink into some mindless work and would pop in to act as a jack of all trades – server, kitchen hand, and busboy. He said doing so made sure he never forgot what all of his employees did every day. I appreciated that in a boss. I appreciated him in more ways than he could possibly ever imagine just for giving me my job – even though I was inexperienced when I had firststarted.
"Have a good day at school?" heasked.
"Just like anyother."
I moved towards the back of the kitchen where he had installed mini lockers to place our belongings in. I set my satchel and keys inside, pulling the black card from Bellamy out, and absentmindedly slipping it into the pouch of myapron.
"Are you eating dinner heretonight?"
Alex always offered to let his workers eat before a shift. He was just that kind of guy, the nice, I'll-take-good-care-of-your-daughter-ma'am kind of guy, even at his age. Had he been fifteen years younger, I might have found him incredibly attractive. It was the way he held himself, with such confidence that made him seem so dependable, but with Alex, he didn’t just look the part, he acted the part every day. His kind of self-assurance wasn't something I possessed, but I hoped with time it might rub off onme.
"No, I'm not hungry, but thanks for the offer." Even the five dollars spent on a burger and fries could be put to better use. Yet, as the words slipped out of my mouth, my stomach growled in response. I pivoted as quickly as I could, hoping he hadn'theard.
"Eat, Harlow. It's on the house." His big hand came down on my head andrubbed.
"I'm fine. It's okay. I just forgot to grab a snack at home. I’ll just eat some crackers when I’m not busy. Besides, I'm late. I should probably clock in and get to work. Sorry," I prattled until his hand fell off of my head and he turned me around to look athim.
"I want you to grab a menu and order anything you want. From the adult menu, not the kid’s menu – because I know you would." His eyes burned into me. "When was the last time you ate an actualmeal?"
"I heated up some soup before coming to work." Not for myself, but it was true and even though I hadn't eaten it, the statement wasn't technically alie.
He harrumphed, wandering back towards the kitchen. "Well, you're gonna eat something here. Go on. Get toit."
"Yes, sir." I smiled as my shoes scuffed across the linoleum tiled floor out into the dining area where we kept the menus. I sat at the counter and looked through the cheapest selection of meals foradults.
After a few minutes, Alex came back. "Alright, Harlow. What are yougetting?"
"Oh, I'll get it." I moved to hop off the stool when he slapped a hand on the counter in front ofme.
"You sit right there, young lady," he snapped. From him, the ‘young lady’ comment didn't sound menacing; accusing still, but in a playful way. "Tell me what youwant."
"Um...okay." I looked back at the menu, the decision I had made previously faltering in my mind. "Can I get the double stacked chickenclub?"
"You got it. With fries?" He was punching his fingers at the POS system that logged all of our orders before I even nodded inanswer.
