Mattie’s Diner

Chapter One

Jamie unlocked the glass door of the diner, the little bell overhead tinkling back and forth.

He would know that sound anywhere having grown up with that tiny silver bell which was looking an old and tired.

Rust showed on the inside and the side facing the glass door.

Normally he would come in from the back entrance that opened up into the kitchen, but today.

.. today he had buried his grandmother. The grandmother who had taken him in, along with his grandfather, when his own mother decided she didn’t want him.

He closed his eyes. All the smells and sounds of his upbringing surrounded him. From the light traffic along the interstate service road, to the slight hint of grease, cooked onion and just under all that, the pine cleaner his grandmother has insisted they use.

A tear ran down Jamie’s cheek. He’d lost both his grandparents who practically raised him, within five months of each other. Granted, they were both in their eighties, and while they were elderly, they had both been vibrant and working up until they died.

Papaw was found sitting in his rocking chair, his pipe in hand.

It had been his habit after diner every night for as long as Jamie could remember.

He would go out onto the back screened-in veranda on the second story of the diner, fire up a bowl of tobacco, and have a sit in his rocking chair.

That was his habit and as far as Jamie knew, his only vice.

Papaw never drank as his grandmother thought it a sin, having been raised a strict Methodist. He only had eyes for his wife, Jamie’s grandmother, Mattie and he didn’t know a stranger.

Although he wasn’t a big talker, he was a kind-hearted man and in his quiet simple way, often helped others, sometimes without them even knowing.

Jamie walked behind the counter, through the swinging door and into the kitchen.

There was the grill, along the wall towards the dining room, clean and ready to be used.

The spatulas had been slipped into their holding sleeves on the wall behind.

Next to it was the six-burner gas stove and oven, also clean and ready for business, and next to that a six-level stack oven and quick streamer below that.

He closed his eyes as he ran his forefinger across the short steam table that butted up against the flattop grill.

Then there was the food holding counter that opened up to the dining room and above that the heat lamps.

He remembered all the waitresses that had worked there over his lifetime cracking jokes or giving special requests through the small opening as they lifted the completed orders from the shelf.

Jamie could practically cook blindfolded in this kitchen.

Since he was six, or was it seven, years of age, he’d been in this kitchen every single day of his life until he went off to college.

Nothing had changed much in all those years except for a walk-in refrigerator, a new stove, and a new, but even then, a used stainless-steel work bench and a two-level industrial sized oven used almost exclusively for biscuits, corn bread, pies, and cakes.

That had been Mamaw’s and Jamie’s department.

He had to close his eyes again to hold back more tears. Not now. I can’t now.

There was the almost new, stainless-steel table with one shelf underneath, stacks of bowls, rolling pins, and sheet pans sitting there, ready to be used.

Jamie would bet all the money in his wallet that there would be a biscuit cutter in the top bowl on the far-left side of the lower shelf.

Mamaw would call it her biscuit table. The only light was coming from a very narrow set of windows toward the back of the kitchen and what little, if any, light from the windows of the dining room.

It was only then that he noticed a man sitting on the table in the gloominess, since no lights had been turned on.

“Holy shit!” He jumped at least a foot. “Who are you and how did you get in here? There isn’t any money.”

The man raised both hands, one of which had a partially eaten sandwich in it. Now that Jamie had a moment to take it all in, he saw the guy had a mouthful of food. He was also dangling keys from the forefinger of his other hand.

“I ’ave a key,” he muttered around the mouthful.

He jangled the keys, and swallowed. “I have a key,” jumping down, he took a gulp of milk from a glass that had been next to him, before he walked slowly towards Jamie, around the other counter that held a toaster, waffle iron, and additional workspace with a wooden cutting board.

It was like he was sizing Jamie up, then swapped the sandwich into his left hand, wiped his right on his jeans.

“You must be Jamie,” thrusting his hand out; a big bright smile appeared on his face.

“Glad to meet you finally. I’ve heard so much about you, I feel I know you. ”

Jamie finally found his voice. “Uh, hi. And you are...?”

The man tilted his head slightly, his hand went to his chest. “I’m truly hurt. I’m Jesus Miguel Santos Salazar. Most people call me Salzy for short.”

Jamie’s mouth hung open. “I could have sworn Mamaw called you Sally. I was really expecting you to be a woman from how Mamaw mentioned you.” Jamie slowly raised his hand towards the man in front of him, and he couldn’t help but notice how nice looking the man was.

“I wondered how a man got the name Sally.”

Jesus Miguel Santos Salazar busted out laughing.

“Yeah, there were times when I thought she was calling me Sally also. Mr. Solan just ended up calling me Sal.” Salzy took Jamie’s hand in his.

“Every time you were here, I wasn’t.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“That’s just the way it goes sometimes when you’re a trucker. ”

“So, you’re Sally.” Jamie laughed when Salzy frowned.

“Please, don’t you get started calling me that. It’s... weird.”

Jamie couldn’t help but chuckle. “Okay, Salzy it is. Or... maybe just Sal, like Papaw said. I think that may suit you better, however... I’ll go with Salzy.”

Salzy shrugged. “Fine by me, just not... Sally,” he scrunched up his face.

He took his hand from Jamie’s. He looked towards the floor.

“Man, I’m really sorry to hear about Ms. Mattie.

” He looked up. “It was hard on her and all of us when Mr. Solan passed, but it was like a knife to my heart when Flo called and told me about her passing. I am really sorry.”

Jamie felt his mouth twitch upwards toward a smile at the mention of Florence’s name. She had worked for his grandparents for as long as he could remember. She still had the flame red beehive hairdo then, as she does now and always wore the brightest red lipstick Jamie had ever seen.

“Mamaw told me that you were here when Papaw... passed and helped out a lot. Thank you for that. I got here as quickly as I could.”

“It’s all good. I knew you’d take care of everything when you did get here.” Salzy shrugged again. “As soon as I knew you were on your way, I got on the road. I was already a day behind schedule, and the bosses weren’t very understanding since he wasn’t a blood relative and all.”

Jamie nodded.

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind me making myself a sandwich.

I usually did when I came in from the road.

I used to try and pay for it, but your grandparents wouldn’t let me.

They were always feeding me. Instead, I took out the trash or did any odd jobs they had around.

Oh, and I always use the back door.” He stuck his thumb over his shoulder towards the door.

“Yeah, they told me. They were very fond of you.” Jamie stood on his toes to see out the small windows along the back wall, and could only see the very top of a candy-apple red semitruck. “That your truck?”

Salzy looked over his shoulder. “Yep, that’s my rig. Well, it’s the company’s rig, for now, but I’m the only one who drives it.” Salzy took a long gulp of his milk. “I’m paying it off little by little. Then it will be mine.”

“I’ve never been in a big semi before,” Jamie said, still trying to see out the windows.

“I’d be happy to give you the grand tour, which will take all of two minutes,” Salzy laughed. “It’s not like it’s all that big on the inside. One of these days I’ll graduate to a condo cab instead of a coffin cab.”

Jamie’s eyebrows shot up. “A coffin cab?”

Salzy laughed again. “Yeah, that’s what they call them. The condo cab is like a tiny house, and the coffin cab only has a bunk bed, with a small amount of storage underneath the mattress. It really is like a large coffin. Feels like it sometimes, especially if it’s hot out.”

“Ah, okay. I get it now.” Jamie smiled. “I’ve noticed that on the drives from Atlanta and back.”

Salzy took a huge bite from his sandwich, that appeared to be ham with a lot of mayo and a bit of mustard. “That your Mercedes SL coup out there?” Speaking around the food in his mouth.

“Yeah. It’s kind of old, but it’s all mine and paid for. It’s in really good condition. My uh... father got it for me when I graduated culinary school four years ago. It was used then, but I’ve never had a problem with it, and I do like driving it.”

“It’s nice. When are you heading back?” Salzy asked.

Jamie shook his head. “I have no idea at the moment.” He shoved both hands in the pockets of his suit pants. He’d gotten it at one of the outlet malls on his way down from Atlanta when his grandfather had died.

“I’ll be here for a day, and then off again.

It’s a short run this time. Only to Jacksonville and back,” Salzy informed him before taking another long drink from his glass of milk.

“If there’s anything I can do for you, just let me know.

Okay?” He looked directly at Jamie. “I really wished I could have been here for the funeral. I did try, but traffic on I-20 was nuts with all the road construction.”

“I understand,” Jamie said. “It’s the thought that counts.”

“I don’t own a suit either,” Salzy said, looking back towards the old white tile floor. “I’d have had to wear some old slacks I have, which have seen better days.” He grinned at Jamie. “I do at least have a decent tie and white shirt.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Jamie couldn’t help but smile. It was like being around this man made you want to smile all the time. He pulled on his own tie that wasn’t very decent and looked cheap... because it was. “I didn’t have a suit until Papaw passed.”

Salzy shrugged, smiled, and took another bite of his sandwich. When he’d swallowed it, he asked, “Want me to make you one?”

Just as Jamie was about to answer no, the little bell jingled. Jamie and Salzy walked towards the front to see who it was. The woman who stood there had a look of pure disdain on her face, with platinum blonde hair, a lot of makeup and pinched face.

“And what do you want, Mother? Money?”