Chapter 13
N ora
Running on a few hours of sleep for many weeks is not ideal, so naturally it’s made me grumpy.
But if I’m really honest with myself, this morning’s interaction with Jericho maybe has something to do with my sour mood.
The whole town thinking I’m crazy does nothing to me—I’m immune at this point and perfectly comfortable with it.
But Jericho? Somehow, it bothers me. Which is totally illogical considering we are just neighbors.
What else is illogical is my desire to throw my oddity into everyone’s eyes today, when on a normal day impressing people makes no difference for me.
I dress in black leggings, an off-shoulder green tunic which totally doesn’t match the weather, and a bunch of jewelry.
I decide to go with golden accents and all the protective stones I can find.
A long necklace with selenite and tourmaline to shield me from all the shit that might come my way today, earrings with black obsidian, and a bracelet with hematite.
When I arrive at the diner, Roman, the cook, has already opened and is mixing bread in the kitchen.
Moons’ opens at six-thirty, and I’m usually here bright and early.
But if the damn rooster keeps depriving me of sleep, I’ll have to ask one of my servers to replace me in the morning so I can get a few extra hours of shut-eye.
Otherwise, I’ll bite someone’s head off.
I wash my hands, put an apron on, and head to Roman. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Nora.” When he notices my attire, he whistles. “Are we expecting any witch hunts coming our way?”
“You never know.”
Roman is of Russian heritage and has a slight accent.
He’s been working for my grandmother for thirty years before I came to replace her here, and I’ve never known him to take a day off.
Quite honestly, the place would probably crumble if he ever does.
His cousin owns a breakfast place in Little Hope, and she’s famous for the same work ethic.
He pauses mixing the dough and glances at me with a lifted brow. “What happened, hun?”
“Nothing. I’m good. Just feeling a little frisky today, that’s all.”
“Didn’t sleep well?” he asks with a smile, giving me an out.
“No,” I reply, yawning on cue.
“Nightmare again?” His voice drops the humorous note.
I shake my head. “The rooster has been at it again.”
His belly laugh is so pure, I can’t even be mad at him for laughing at my misery.
“You still can’t catch him?” He goes back to mixing.
“The bird is a ghost, I swear. He comes out of thin air and disappears back into it,” I reply with a groan, starting the coffee pot.
Moons’ has a typical diner layout with a bar counter and a tall chair at the server station, and tables and booths throughout the rest of the area.
The kitchen and the main area are separated by a long glassless window where Roman can see everything that’s going on in the diner, and people can see him doing his magic.
The prevalent color scheme is red because it’s Granny’s favorite color.
A couple of years ago we refreshed the chairs, but if I’m honest, the place could use an update.
“Maybe you should get a cat. A big one,” Roman suggests with a chuckle. “A very big one.”
“I think the only cat who could catch this damned thing is a mountain lion. Anything else would lose the battle. Just like I have,” I mumble at the end.
“Ask Karina to open the diner tomorrow. I don’t think she’ll mind. Or you’ll end up falling asleep here.”
“Or killing someone,” I mumble under my breath.
“I would start with Dick.” Roman’s voice changes from playful to vicious.
He hates Dick. Everyone in this diner does.
We’re more like a family than coworkers, so we love or hate our partners and exes together.
Plus, Roman has been like a father to me from the time I was born, and he sure stepped up when our parents died.
He even was my prom date when Dick dumped me right before the dance.
So yes, Roman is not just a cook at Moons’. He is one of the Moons.
“You and me both. But I love my freedom.”
“Cheryl will cover for you.”
I look at him without saying a word until he starts laughing.
“You’re right, she prolly won’t.”
Cheryl loves me, a lot, but she’s a rule follower, so I can’t see her breaking any laws even for me. I have a better chance of Roman bringing the shovel if I ever need to hide a body. There’s got to be something really special for her to enter any gray area.
The coffee machine beeps, indicating that morning cup of joe is ready.
With a slightly happier heart, I grab the pot and pull it away from the station.
But it catches onto something, and I end up jerking it rather than pulling.
The hot liquid splashes on my hand, and I jump back on instinct.
Leaving the pot on the station, unsecured in its spot.
The pot slides to the side and shatters into a million glass pieces when it hits the floor.
Roman rushes out of the kitchen with his hands covered in dough. “Nora? Are you okay?”
I look at him, feeling my eyes starting to swell out of nowhere.
“Nora.” His voice softens as he rushes to my side, the dough sticking to his arms like gloves. “Honey. Don’t worry about that. I’ll help you clean it.”
“No,” I say, throwing my hand in the air to prevent him from coming closer. I can see he’s trying very hard not to smile. “I got it. Don’t worry about it.”
“Nora,” he insists, dropping his voice to the soothing tone he uses when I’m on the verge of losing it.
“I’m fine, Roman.” I wave him off again, but this time more gently. “Seriously. I’m probably just tired and clumsy. I really need some sleep.”
“You do,” Roman replies in a brisk, no-nonsense tone, as if diagnosing my condition. “I can call Karina and ask her to come earlier.”
“No, that’s fine,” I protest, secretly glad for the fatherly concern but wanting to handle this mess on my own. “I’ll ask her when she’s here. Don’t let her hang that awful skeleton on the front door while I’m gone.”
“Can’t promise. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes,” I sigh.
He watches me for a few moments before nodding and retreating to the kitchen. I clean the mess from the floor and go to grab the extra pot we have in the back.
My second attempt at coffee making is more successful. Finally getting the much-needed caffeine, I feel slightly more like a human.
The rest of the day is as expected—shitty.
Every single customer is grumpy, complaining about their coffee being too hot or too cold.
We ran out of eggs, of all things, in the middle of the morning rush, and I had to run to the store to get more.
The stove stopped working around nine, and we had to pause serving food for a couple of hours until Garry, the local technician, came to fix it.
It’s a miracle he was available because he usually works in Little Hope on some project at the grocery store.
A bunch of loud frat boys stopped by for pancakes and weren’t very nice to my nineteen-year-old waitress, Letty, when they mistook her politeness for flirting. These types of things are not acceptable in our diner. Never have been, never will be.
I’m so on edge that even Karina stops bothering me about adding more decorations for Halloween.
If it was up to her, our diner would not have an empty spot on the walls, and she keeps reminding me every single hour of every single day that “We could use more decor around here.” But I probably look close to murdering someone because she stopped asking around eleven a.m.
By the time the clock hits five p.m., I’m ready to climb the Maine lighthouse so aliens can whisk me away from this place.
And this is when I see my neighbor walk in.
Looking around hesitantly, he focuses on a few empty chairs at the bar counter.
Great , to top off my already shitty day, he’s come to see the ‘crazy’ lady in action.
I come up to him and place an empty mug in front of him, already full of attitude toward him for yesterday’s comment. Knowing full well he didn’t say anything offensive or extraordinary, I’m still pissed. This is why I needed all my stones with me today .
His eyes widen when he notices me, as if he didn’t expect me to be here. In my own diner.
“Coffee?” I ask, raising the half-full pot in front of me.
“Yes, please.” He sounds almost… shy.
The tone of his voice definitely drops the level of my attitude a few notches. I fill the coffee and nod at the counter where a little tray is filled with sugar and cream.
“I’ve never been here,” he says gruffly, taking a packet of brown sugar.
I notice that one of the fingers on his left hand is swollen and a shade darker than the rest. Or a few shades darker. Looks like the poor thing has been smashed by something—it must be throbbing with pain. How he’s not wincing is beyond my understanding—I’d be crying on the floor by now.
“I know. It’s my grandma’s place, so I know all the customers.
” I don’t know why I say that, but here we are.
Maybe I’m a little offended he hasn’t visited us yet.
As a bachelor, I’d expect him to live on takeout, or as a new resident, at least for him to check out the only diner in town.
Well, the only decent diner. I won’t mention that Dick the asshole just opened another diner on the other side of town.
Jericho glances around and returns his attention back to me with a smirk. “Looks good. Cozy.”
My frozen heart suddenly melts away a little. Just a tiny bit. He doesn’t strike me as a person who gives praise freely, and him calling the place good and cozy makes me feel proud.
“You guys are ready for Halloween, I see,” he adds after another glance.
“We have been since August,” I reply, shooting an accusing look toward Karina which she deflates with her tongue poking out of her mouth. “What can I get you?” I ask, returning my attention to my neighbor.