4. Treasure
TREASURE
The dinner rush thins to a trickle, and the last customers clear out. Lamar and I are prepping for close when Andy comes barreling out of the back with his coat on.
“I’m leaving early,” he announces.
I straighten up from the booth I’m wiping. “…Okay.”
“You know how to close?” He’s already angled toward the door, keys in his hand.
“Better than you’re doing at leaving.” I rest my weight on one hip.
“Safe code’s on an index card under the register, and I better not hear you told anyone.
Count the drawer twice before you drop it.
Mop last or you’re pushing dirt around all night.
Back door first, then the front, and rattle the handle on your way out.
Half this town knows it sticks.” He fires it off without taking a breath.
“That all?” I wave him toward the door. “Go home, Andy.”
“And.” He points a finger at me and steps close. “If anyone comes in here tonight asking about that Help Wanted sign, don’t turn them away. I’m still interviewing. I’ll know if you turned someone away, Treasure. I got a feeling for these things.”
I should take that sign down just to spite his paranoid ass.
“Sure, Andy.” I hold his stare.
He leans in a fraction more, close enough to show me the red rimming his eyes. “I mean it.”
“I hear you.” I keep my voice even and my face closed.
He squints at me a moment, then stomps out the front door in a gust of cold air that rattles the little silver bell. The door swings shut behind him.
Lamar leans against the pass-through window with his arms crossed. He’s been smiling this whole time. “Don’t worry about him.”
“Is he like this with everyone, or am I special?” I pick my rag back up and go back to the booth.
“Oh, you’re special. He usually waits a week before the threats.” Lamar pushes off the window and starts scrubbing the grill, but he keeps watching me sideways. “Don’t take it personal.”
“This is a very healthy workplace.” I grin at him over my shoulder. “I’m having a great time.”
Lamar laughs and turns to his line, and I take the floor.
I love closing. That’s a weird thing to admit about a waitressing job, but after a shift of noise, an empty dining room is mine. Even the buzz of the coolers helps.
I wipe down every booth from back to front and chase out the crumbs, the dried streaks, and one smear I’m calling gravy.
I restock the ketchups, refill the sugar caddies, and line up the salt and pepper shakers so they all face the same way.
The day-shift girl will mess them up tomorrow, but tonight they’re straight.
The broom’s bristles are worn down to nubs, but it gets everything out from under the seats and stools.
The drawer comes up right on the first count, and I run it again anyway before it goes in the safe. Apparently the paranoia is catching.
By the time I’m done, the lights are off, the back door is locked and rattle-checked, and my coat and purse are in my hands.
Lamar’s waiting for me up front with his jacket on. “I’ll walk you out.”
“It’s a parking lot, Lamar. I can handle it.” I fish my keys out of my purse.
“Never said you couldn’t.” He holds the door with his shoulder while I lock up. “I’m the one scared of the dark.”
I don’t argue.
We step out into the parking lot, and the cold has sharpened while I was inside. I pull my sweater tighter and hit the key fob, and my car chirps back at me. The shopping center is mostly dark, just the gas station sign across the road and the yellow wash of the lights on empty asphalt.
I’m halfway to my car when I glance up for one more look at the statue, and I stop walking.
“What?” Lamar says beside me.
The statue is gone.
The roofline is bare. Nothing up there but shingles, a rain gutter, and open sky where all that stone sat when my shift started.
“Lamar.” I pick my words careful. I want to be sure before I sound crazy. “Was there a statue on the roof when you got here this morning?”
He cranes back and gives the roof a good long look. “A statue?”
“A gargoyle statue. Big and gray, right there on the edge.” I point, and my finger’s steadier than my voice.
He takes his time about it, tilts his head, and shrugs. “Huh? Nah. Don’t think so.”
Okay. I walked under this building on my way in tonight and there was a full-sized stone gargoyle crouched on the edge of that roof.
I looked up at it and stared long enough to feel embarrassed about it.
Now it’s gone, Lamar doesn’t remember it, and I’m standing in a dark parking lot in a town where I haven’t unpacked.
I refuse—I absolutely refuse—to be the girl who loses her mind on day one of her new job.
“Never mind.” I drop my arm and keep walking.
He falls in beside me and keeps whatever he’s thinking to himself. “You good?”
“Long day.” I even smile when I say it.
The rest of the way passes in silence. I open my door and toss my purse on the passenger seat.
Lamar props a forearm on the top of my car, close enough that I catch the soap under the grill smell that clings to him. “So. You gonna let me take you out sometime?”
I laugh. Of course it had to be this man, on my first shift, with that beard and that smile. “I don’t date coworkers.”
“Yeah?” He tips his head and waits.
“That’s a rule,” I tell him.
He leans in an inch. “That one of those hard rules, or one of the ones with room in it?”
“It’s a hard rule, Lamar.” I don’t give it any room.
He pushes off the car and holds up both hands.
“All right. I hear you.” He starts walking backward toward his truck, hands still up. “But just so you know, Treasure, I’m not real attached to this diner.”
I put both hands on my hips. “Lamar.”
“Shadow Suds is hiring.” He’s still moving backward, watching me as he goes. “That’s all I’m saying.”
I drop my head back and look at the sky. “Lamar, oh my god.”
“Have a good night,” he calls, one hand up in a lazy wave as he finally turns around.
I laugh at his back the entire way. This man is really out here planning a career change behind a date I haven’t said yes to.
I slide into the driver’s seat, shut out the cold, and crank the heat to full. Nothing moves in my mirrors as I pull out onto the road.
I drive home with mountains on both sides and the heater blowing on my knees. My mind stays on the diner roof. A big gray stone gargoyle was up there when I walked in, and the man who works under it every day said nah, don’t think so.
I know I’m not crazy.
It was there.
What the hell?