Chapter Eight
Hiring Thea was a good business move. It’s been several weeks now and word has spread throughout Driftbay about my surprise new baker. Some folks are treating us more as a bakery than a diner, coming in just for Thea’s treats. It’s strange, really, but I’ll take the business.
Thea seems happier now that she’s settled into a routine.
Part-time quickly evolved into full-time and she seems to really enjoy the early mornings in the kitchen.
She’s even started concocting her own original recipes, and dare I say it…
she might actually be better than me in the baking department.
We did not adequately prepare for the amount of people interested in trying her creations during the first week. Word spread quickly and now she makes a variety of confections each morning, which keeps her busy for hours.
Ever since I caught her and Graham in their almost-kiss in the kitchen, she’s been jumpy and almost avoiding me.
Well, as much as you can avoid someone when you live and work together.
We haven’t talked about it, as much as I want to.
She deserves some happiness after so much sorrow this year, but I don’t know if she’s ready to jump into a relationship.
Graham is a sweet enough kid, especially after her disastrous date with Jake.
Graham is off this morning and Brian is running the kitchen with Thea. Raquel and another waitress are taking orders and bussing tables like the superstars they are. It’s relatively quiet for a Monday morning, something I’ll gladly take after the whirlwind weekend.
I’m at my post behind the counter, taking a moment to observe the diner.
I’m proud of what I’ve built in here with these people.
They can always handle whatever is thrown at them — be it lines out the door and wrapped around the building, rowdy crowds, or supply chain issues.
I’ve got a good group of people around me and I know the diner wouldn’t be what it is without them.
I glance approvingly at the wall of awards we’ve won — best breakfast restaurant in Driftbay for thirteen years running.
I’m wiping down menus and restocking napkin dispensers when Charlie walks in, right on schedule.
“Morning,” I say, in a cheerful tone as he sits down on his usual barstool in front of me.
“Good morning,” he says. He avoids my eyes as he picks up a menu from the pile I’ve wiped down. The lack of calling me ‘Beth Ann’ has me concerned.
“In the mood to try something new?” I tease him. Charlie has had the same breakfast order — scrambled eggs and two pieces of bacon — for years now.
He places the menu back down in the pile on the counter. “I have news,” he says, a bit nervously.
“I love news,” I say. I toss the dish towel over my right shoulder, lean against the counter, and give him my full attention. After thirty-five years, I know him well enough to know this must be something good.
“I’m,” he begins, “going on a date.” He chuckles a little as he says the words, relaxing some. “And I feel like a teenager again saying that.”
I struggle to keep a smile plastered on my face. It feels like someone just punched me in the gut, leaving me breathless and gasping for air.
“Oh!” It comes out an octave higher than I intended and I know he’ll notice.
“Beth Ann,” he says, looking concerned.
“No, this is good!” I reach for the dish towel on my shoulder. “This is good,” I repeat. “I mean, we’ve talked about this. We’re both free to see other people, we’re just friends.” I smile. “This is great. Tell me more.”
He narrows his eyes as he looks at me, watching for any slight betrayal of my body language before he continues. “I met her online. She sent me a message, we started talking, and it seems like we just really click.”
“Oh my God, you aren’t on one of those ridiculous dating apps, are you?” I ask as I push off the counter. I grab a mug and fill it with coffee before setting it in front of him.
Charlie suppresses a grin. “Maybe,” he says.
I roll my eyes and laugh.
“Are you sure you’re okay with it?” he asks.
“Of course,” I say. “You don’t need to ask my permission to go on a date. You’re going, you told me, and we’re talking about it. Everything’s fine.”
“Have I ever told you what a good friend you are?” He smiles that boyish grin of his that makes me weak in the knees and I lean against the counter again for stability.
“You’ve mentioned it once or twice,” I say, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth.
Charlie visibly relaxes and I know I have him fooled.
Give me an Academy Award for my performance, I think to myself.
“Did you come here just for that or did you want breakfast, too?” I ask him.
“Little bit of both.”
“Okay,” I say, scooting the menus over. I call out to Brian in the kitchen and remind him that Charlie is here. I turn back to face him, folding my arms against my chest and resting them on the countertop. “Tell me everything.”
“Her name is Sara,” he starts as he wraps his hands around the mug, “She’s a high school math teacher here in town.”
I don’t have time for a relationship, I remind myself. I have the diner and that’s enough for me.
But the diner doesn’t keep you warm at night, another voice whispers.
He tells me how they matched on Flyrt — a popular dating app that I’m surprised he even knows the name of.
I wouldn’t peg Charlie for the dating app kind of guy.
Sara sent him a message and they just started chatting — talking about any and everything under the sun, starting to find more in common than they realized.
Brian slides a plate through the kitchen window and rings the bell, getting my attention.
I turn and reach for it before setting it down in front of Charlie.
He continues to tell me that he plans to take Sara to Regiano’s, the Italian restaurant in town.
I’ve been there a few times and have to admit, it’s a good atmosphere for a first date.
“Have you thought about what you’ll wear?” I ask him, knowing he hasn’t.
“Not in the slightest,” he laughs, choking on a forkful of eggs.
“This is important, you only get one first impression. Wear that gray button down of yours.”
It’s my favorite — it makes his dark blue eyes pop. It brings out the gray undertone in them, and reminds me of the sea at dusk — dark, ferocious, and all-consuming.
He nods. “Noted.” He stares at me intently as he eats. “Are you really sure you’re okay with this?”
I smile again, feeling like the Cheshire Cat. “Yes,” I say, lying through my teeth. Besides, saying no wouldn’t change the fact that he’s going on a date. All it would do is cause a rift between us and I couldn’t bear to lose my best friend.
“I’m looking forward to it,” he says. “It’s been a long time since I got back out there.”
I stare at him as he takes another bite of his breakfast. He’s right, it has been a while for him. He’s had a few sporadic dates off and on over the years, but nothing stuck.
I, on the other hand, swore off dating after my relationship with James went up in flames and that was twenty years ago.
Charlie finishes his food and we go about our daily routine.
He pays and leaves shortly after. There’s an extra pep in his step, a swagger I hadn’t noticed before.
I laugh as I watch him exit the diner before my smile fades and reality sets in.
My heart feels heavy and I just want to go home, but I have a long afternoon in front of me.
No day is complete without a visit from Judith. I hear the bell above the door chime as she walks in, not long after Charlie left.
“Morning, dearie,” she calls, as she heads toward her usual booth.
“Morning, Judith!” I grab a glass from the counter and fill it with ice water before I meet her at her usual table. I pull a straw out of the pocket of my apron and set them both down.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, instantly sensing that something is off.
“Nothing.” I muster a smile as I grab my notepad to take her order.
“Cut the crap,” she says bluntly, and motions to the open side of her booth. “Sit.” She unwraps her straw and dunks it into her ice water as she stares at me.
I relent, shoving my notepad and pen back into my apron. I slide into the booth and begin fidgeting with the discarded straw wrapper, staying quiet.
Her hands reach across the table and cover mine, stopping my anxious fidgeting. They’re a bit cold this morning and I find myself staring at the wrinkles covering them to avoid meeting her gaze.
“Something’s wrong with you. Don’t lie to me, please.”
I sigh. “I’m just…” I let myself trail off as I look around the diner, refusing to meet her eyes. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to tell you this. It’s not exactly my story to tell,” I admit.
“I won’t tell a soul.” Judith mimes zipping her lips and then the floor is all mine.
“Charlie told me he has a date.”
There. I said it. It’s out in the open now. I let out a sigh of relief having gotten it off my chest.
“And you feel…?” she motions at me to continue.
“I don’t know.” It’s an honest answer. I’m confused by my reaction.
The logical side of me is happy for Charlie.
He deserves to find someone that makes him happy.
But the emotional side…well, is pretty damn sad.
I’ve been aware that I have feelings for him for a while now.
I thought I had convinced myself into believing that having him as a friend would be enough.
“Confused,” Judith finishes. She cocks her head to the side as she stares at me, reading me like a book. “Angry. Sad.”
I nod. She’s right, like always.
“I just didn’t think I would feel this conflicted about it,” I admit.
“Matters of the heart are never simple, dearie.”
“How are you so wise?” I ask as I look at her, seeing the wealth of wisdom — the kind you only get as you age — on her face.
“Oh, I’m not so wise, dearie.” She pats my hands. “I’ve just learned to go after what I want and not give a damn. Now,” she says as she shifts in the booth, her bracelets jangling, “what are you going to do about it?”