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“HE’S SO HOT,” NICOLE commented as she watched Greyson pull out of the parking lot. “Too bad he’s gay.”
“Gay? What makes you think he’s gay?” Alex quirked a brow and asked. Not that it mattered. He was indisputably good looking. Perfect really. But whether he preferred guys or girls was irrelevant. He was way out of her league.
“Clearly he is.” Nicole screwed up her features as if her estimation of him was painfully obvious to everyone except Alex. “I mean he looked right past the girls.” She pointed to both of her breasts. “No one can resist these puppies.” She smiled smugly. “Not anyone who likes women. And sometimes even the ones who do like men can’t resist them.” She winked jauntily, further inflating her own bloated ego.
“No, no, of course not. He’s clearly not into girls if he resisted them.” In her mind, the words and tone dripped with sarcasm. But spoken aloud, they sounded supportive. Alex had to be careful not to allow sarcasm to creep into her tone. Nicole had a notoriously immense but fragile ego. She was also notoriously spiteful. She shamelessly cozied up to the manager, a paunchy, middle-aged man twice divorced, and had been rumored to be his lover. As a result, she had influence over scheduling where she otherwise wouldn’t. She hadn’t had issue with Alex. But other waitresses had incurred her vengeful wrath, relegated to morning shifts they couldn’t work or Monday evening shifts when the restaurant was dead and hope for tips was nonexistent.
Nicole smiled and tossed a lock of her long, dark hair over her shoulder. “Aww, thanks”
Alex guessed that underneath the layers of makeup Nicole wore was an attractive thirty-five-year-old woman. But thick, dark eyeliner, dark eyeshadow, heavy lip liner paired with deep, wine-colored lipstick, thick foundation and hair dyed to nearly black did little to reveal her face.
“So, since he doesn’t like girls, why do you think he comes here every night?” Nicole probed. Her tone really asked, “Since he isn’t coming to see me every night, why else would he come?”
“I don’t know,” Alex answered. “He really likes the coleslaw?” She shrugged and began filling the ketchup bottles.
“Oh come on. It’s not that good.” Nicole rolled her eyes.
“Don’t tell Lou that.” Alex laughed.
“Huh, I’m sure he knows.” She tossed her thumb over her shoulder toward the kitchen.
“Maybe he likes Lou.” Alex bobbed her brows and smiled.
As if on cue, Lou, the cook, lumbered from the kitchen and plodded by. Clad from head to toe in what used to be a crisp, white uniform but was now a rumpled, grease-stained, gray mess, his wild hair was harnessed by a hairnet and he was covered in a shiny layer of sweat despite the frigid cold. “Hey ladies,” he said flatly. He glanced out the window. “It’s getting really bad out there. Make sure you both text me when you get in.”
Lou would never win a beauty contest but he was one of the nicest people Alex had ever met. And he was a great cook. In rain, sleet or snow, he insisted that everyone text him to let him know they arrived home safely. Perhaps it was because he’d lost his wife of twenty five years in a horrific car accident four years earlier or perhaps it was because he treated all of the women who worked there as if they were his family. Alex didn’t know and she didn’t care. He was a kind man who’d get a kick out of what she and Nicole were discussing.
“Hey Lou, Alex here thinks you have an admirer,” Nicole teased.
“I’m a sexy, sexy man,” he replied in a monotone voice without even looking their way. His sense of humor was self-effacing.
“It’s a guy,” Nicole winked at Alex and continued.
“My appeal is transcendent,” Lou said just as he disappeared down the short hallway that led to the men’s room.
“Lou’s awesome. The way he says things like that. Deadpan.” Nicole pulled out a nail file from a shelf on the podium and began scraping it along her artificial, talon-like nails. “He’s been through so much and is still so funny.” She continued sawing away. “I’d throw him a charity roll in the hay if he weren’t so old and gross.”
Alex stopped mid movement, mentally slapping her hand to her forehead. She didn’t respond. She couldn’t. It was a wonder to her how Nicole had managed to live as long as she had without anyone putting her in her place. Maybe they had and the words just hadn’t stuck. Regardless, her comment was disgusting on more levels than Alex cared to count. “Wow,” she managed. “That’s...generous of you.” She didn’t know how else to respond and the statement came out sounding more like a question.
Brightening at the perceived compliment, Nicole smiled. Then, as if really considering what Alex had said, she knit her brows. “I am, aren’t I?” Tipping her chin she looked right at Alex, as though she’d just realized something else she adored about herself, Nicole said, “I’m a giver. I give. It’s what I do. It’s who I am.”
It was on the tip of Alex’s tongue to say, “Oh you’re a giver alright. You give it away to anyone who has a full set of teeth and gives you half a compliment,” instead she simply kept her lips pressed shut and nodded.
She passed the rest of her shift, busying herself by wiping down all the booths, vacuuming and changing the bag-in-box of orange soda syrup in the soda fountain. By doing so, she managed to avoid any more interactions with Nicole that involved discussing how wonderful she thought she was, Lou, or Greyson. That didn’t mean Greyson had vanished from Alex’s thoughts, though. Changing out the orange soda syrup, she couldn’t help but smile. Orange soda was what he’d ordered every night for a week. It seemed a fun, boyish choice for a guy who looked so sophisticated. Impeccably dressed each time she’d seen him, with his jet-black hair brushed back, he looked like he’d stepped off the pages of an ad in GQ magazine. His bronze skin and a full fringe of long, black eyelashes offset the palest of silvery-gray eyes. He’d appeared so serious. So brooding. Almost sad. She hadn’t been able to pinpoint why, at the time, she’d expected him to be rude, to bark an order at her without even looking at her. It hadn’t been anything he’d done or even how he’d behaved, it had just been a vibe he’d given off initially, an air of warning others away. She’d been wrong, though. He hadn’t been rude and he hadn’t barked an order at her without looking at her. To the contrary, he’d been polite and friendly. And while he hadn’t engaged anyone else in conversation, much to their chagrin, he’d talked to Alex. He’d even requested to sit in her section the second day he’d come. Nicole, of course, had insisted he’d only done so because Alex was the best waitress. At the time, Alex thought it was possible. Not that she was the best waitress but that he’d been happy with her service. She never thought herself the best but she did do her best to be as friendly, efficient and accommodating to every patron as she could. Greyson had been no different. She hadn’t treated him any better or any worse than anyone else. Nicole and all the other waitresses wanted to roll out a red carpet for him and fought over who’d take his table. He’d been in Alex’s section so while they’d fought, she’d brought him a menu and a glass of water. When she’d returned and he’d asked if she could suggest anything in particular, she’d said the hamburger deluxe was her favorite. She knew the menu by heart and had sampled just about everything on it, but when all was said and done, she believed nothing beat a good burger. He’d trusted her and ordered just that. Apparently, he’d shared in her simple taste because he ordered a hamburger deluxe each night for the last week.
Though Greyson had been friendly and seemed to seek her out to chat and often initiated conversation, Alex had not entertained the notion that he’d been interested in her. He was a customer for the last week. A nice one who tipped well. Nothing more. He’d never flirted and neither had she. He likely had a girlfriend, one who looked like a model but was studying neuroscience and in her free time built houses for Habitat for Humanity. That was the narrative in her head. Greyson had a gorgeous, neuroscientist, humanitarian girlfriend. Sure, she liked him and thought he was extraordinarily handsome, but she was pretty certain his interest in her was limited to her being his waitress. Alex wasn’t sure why but that thought settled like a weight in her chest. When she looked out the window and saw near-whiteout conditions, that sensation worsened.
“Wow, it’s really coming down out there,” Alex said to no one.
Apparently, she’d been overhead by Nicole. “Why don’t you get going? Lou and I live within walking distance if the roads are too bad, but you live quite a ways away,” she said. “Besides, we’re closing in an hour anyway and I am positive no one’s coming in to eat in this storm.”
“Are you sure?” Alex asked though she knew Nicole was right.
“Just go,” Lou called out from the kitchen.
Alex’s head whipped from the sound of Lou’s voice to Nicole. “Seriously? He heard us from back there?”
“The guy’s got superhuman hearing.” Nicole’s eyes rounded. “He’s a mystery wrapped in a riddle.”
“Wrapped in sexy, sexy packaging,” he reminded and sounded about as enthusiastic as a man about to get a prostate exam.
“His voice is so soothing. Like Morgan Freeman.” Nicole rested her chin in her hand with her elbow propped on the podium. “Now he’s a hot old dude.”
Alex parted her lips to speak. She was about to ask if she’d heard Nicole correctly. But stopped just short of it when Nicole continued.
“That white hair and the earring.” Nicole sighed. “He’s a classy, hot old dude.”
“Hmm,” Alex said. She smiled and nodded like an idiot, at a loss for how to respond. Instead, she stripped off her apron and walked to the bathroom, where she changed out of her uniform and into her clothes. “Okay guys, I’m out of here. Get home safely.”
“You, too,” Nicole said.
“Text when you get in,” Lou reminded.
“As if you’d forget.” Nicole rolled her eyes. “I tell you, I’m surprised he even texts. Or has a cell phone.” She laughed.
“Yeah, I text. And I FaceTime, too.” Lou’s mellow voice reached out smoothly from the kitchen again.
“He’s too much.” Nicole laughed.
“You got it Lou,” Alex called back. “He’s awesome. He really is.” She chuckled as she zipped up her coat. “Alright, see you tomorrow night.”
Alex stepped out of Lou’s diner and into the white world. The sky glowed a bright shade of palest pink as snowflakes fell like party confetti. She trudged through deep snow to get to the bus stop that was a few blocks away from the diner. After the bus arrived and a seemingly endless, slippery ride to the bus stop by her house, she finally made it home. Her feet were wet and cold and her ponytail was damp, plastered to the back of her neck when finally she stepped through the front door and into the kitchen just after ten. She had an anatomy and physiology packet that needed to be completed and a behavioral science quiz in the morning. What she really wanted was a long, hot shower and her bed, but she settled for a quick shower and textbooks instead.
Three hours later, the packet was finished and her studying had been completed. She collapsed in to bed close to two, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep until the alarm on her phone went off at six. Yawning and stretching, she felt like she was sleepwalking through her morning routine, brushing her teeth, showering and drying her hair. Racing out of the bathroom at six-thirty, she nearly slammed into her mother.
Makeup smudged and smeared around her eyes and hair a mess, her mother looked like a rock star after a drunken bender.
“Morning, Mom,” Alex said.
Gripping her head and squinting her eyes, she shushed Alex. “Do you have to be so loud?” Her voice was a hoarse whisper.
“Sorry.” Alex’s brow lowered. “What’s up with you?”
“Nothing’s up with me. I just don’t like being yelled at in the morning,” her mother snapped moodily.
“Who’s yelling?” Alex matched her tone and asked. The sour scent of alcohol floated in the air. Whether it seeped from her mother’s pores or lingered on her breath from the night before didn’t matter. They both meant the same thing. She’d been drinking. Heavily. And when her mother drank heavily, she seldom woke up alone. “You’re hung over?”
“A little.” Her mother bobbed her shoulders.
“Ha. A little. You stink like booze.” Annoyance wound like a coiled snake in the pit of her stomach. “And I’m guessing you’re not alone?”
Her mother looked away and sniffed, rubbing her nose.
“Mom?” Alex demanded.
“This is my house. I can have whoever I want over.” She still refused to make eye contact with Alex.
Alex ran her tongue over her front teeth as she tried to breathe steadily. A wave of anger had just crashed over her, overwhelming her to the point she wanted to scream and curse at her mother. But instead, she did her best to stay calm. To be as respectful as she could. “Mom, do you think bringing home random men you meet out drinking is a good idea?”
“What I do is none of your business,” her mother bit back.
Alex pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling as if, at any moment, she was going to unload a tidal wave of several years-worth of pent-up rage. “Oh but it kind of is,” she countered tightly. “You see, you don’t live alone.”
“That’s right. I’m the parent and you’re the children. You don’t tell me what to do!”
“That’s right, Mom. You are the parent. You have a ten-year-old who shouldn’t be left alone in the first place while you’re out drinking and picking up men and she shouldn’t see you marching random men in and out of here.” Voice rising, Alex’s mind spun around ever horrific consequence of her mother’s behavior. “Any one of these barflies could be into little girls. Or could kill us all in our sleep. Or could rob what little we have—”
“Enough!” her mother interrupted. “You could wake Kevin!”
Alex laughed. It was a sound completely devoid of joy. “Kevin. Really? You’re worried about Kevin?”
Her mother rolled her eyes in response.
“Unbelievable.” Alex shook her head. “And what about when Carly wakes? She should be up by now and getting ready for school. Will Kevin be here to see her off to school?”
“I-I don’t know. I didn’t think about that.” Her mother bit her lower lip in thought.
“No. You didn’t. You didn’t think.” Alex planted both hands on her hips. She let out a loud sigh. “Okay, this is what’s going to happen. Clean up your face and run a wash cloth over you. I’ll wake Carly and get her breakfast on the way.”
“But you have school today, don’t you? And your car problem? How do you think you’ll pull that off?” her mother asked.
“Yeah, I do have school. I’ll have to take the bus with Carly and get her breakfast on the way then get her to school then take the bus back to my school. I’ll have to be late.” Alex’s temples throbbed just thinking about the ordeal it would be. But what other choice did she have? She’d be damned if she subjected Carly to some creep her mother dredged up from the bar floor at closing time.
“Won’t you...I don’t know...get in trouble?” her mother fretted.
“Really? Now all of a sudden you care about whether or not I get in trouble at school when yesterday you wouldn’t give me a ride to a test that, if I missed, would cause me to get a zero and fail the course?”
“And why wouldn’t your car start, huh?” her mother pursed her lips and asked sarcastically. “Oh yeah, because you think you’re too good for Sal.”
Alex’s jaw dropped. She realized then and there that arguing with her mother was a complete and utter waste of time. She’d have a better chance at screaming at a wall and getting it to respond than she would making her mother understand how she felt. Shaking her head, she simply said, “Yes, that’s exactly right. Sal would’ve solved everything for me.” She smiled mirthlessly and turned on her heels, making her way to Carly’s room.