Chapter 29
twenty-nine
. . .
Rachel
Carol's phone call woke me out of a deep sleep. It was gray outside, and dawn's light was too weak to poke through. I picked up the phone and flicked my thumb over the screen.
"Gosh, I'm sorry to wake you, Rachel." Carol sounded upset.
"Could you please open up? I twisted my ankle last night at line dancing.
I called Nora, but she said she woke up with a sore throat.
She won't be in. So, it's just you and the new girl Peggy.
" Peggy was inexperienced. She was sweet, but she was still at that bring-the-plates-out-one-at-a-time stage, and it took her forever.
"I'm afraid I'll need you to close, too.
I really am sorry, Ray, and I promise a big bonus at the end of the year. "
I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. "I'll get in the shower right now."
"You're the best."
"Ice that ankle, right? One day on my own with butter-fingered Peggy might be my max."
"I'm sure I'll be right as rain tomorrow. Thanks again, Ray."
The apartment was so quiet I could practically hear the time change on the microwave clock.
Jack had come down with a cold, and Mom followed right behind.
Flu season was in full rage, and now it seemed Nora was going to be out for a few days, too.
I couldn't allow myself to get sick and told my immune system just that.
I got ready quietly and left a note for Mom.
Mom had promised Jack that they'd spend the day in pajamas reading stories and drinking chicken soup.
Jack wasn't much into chicken soup, but Mom built it up as a magic elixir that only little boys lucky enough to wear pajamas all day could have.
He went to bed dreaming about chicken soup with alphabet noodles.
The roads felt eerily quiet for a Monday.
That flu was wiping out the entire workforce.
I'd noticed the construction site across the street had far fewer trucks recently, and we'd had less diners because of it.
Today I was thankful for that. A packed dining room would have been chaotic and impossible with just Peggy by my side.
I pulled up to the diner. It looked like there were even less trucks at the site across the road.
It was as if a black plague had swept through town, leaving only shadows and misery in its wake.
An odd green car, an old Chevy with plenty of rust and a dented bumper, was parked out front of the diner.
I wouldn't have noticed it except it wasn't the first time I'd seen it.
I saw a light on in the kitchen. Hank had gotten in early.
I wondered if that meant Kyle, his new kitchen assistant, had called in sick, too.
Kyle was just a few steps above Peggy in helpfulness.
But he was pretty good at chopping vegetables, and Hank insisted that was the only skill he needed to be helpful.
I walked quickly to the front door. Hank had locked it behind him, which I expected.
The cold made my fingers clumsy, and I dropped the keys.
I stooped down to pick them up, and as I lifted my gaze, I met the dark, mean stare of the man in the green Chevy.
There were two men in the backseat as well. The man lifted a lip and sneered at me.
I fumbled nervously with the keys, but there was nothing worse than cold, trembling fingers when you were trying to get a key in a lock.
I glanced back at the car. The man was still sneering.
His ugly stare had me so freaked out, I hadn't noticed the tall figure walking across the street in the cloudy shadows.
I sucked in a breath. I hadn't seen him in weeks.
He still stole my breath. Ronan walked to stand between me and the car.
He turned toward the car, crossed his arms and glared hard at the man behind the wheel.
The man started the choppy, weak motor and pulled away, leaving behind the stink of burning oil.
My fingers still trembled, but now it had nothing to do with the creeps in the car.
Ronan's big hand reached out, took the key and opened the door.
"I was unloading bricks across the street.
They've been here for an hour," he explained.
"They didn't look like the blueberry pancakes and cheese omelet types. "
He opened the door and handed me back the key.
It took all my courage to peer up at him, and even though I did it with caution, my breath was once again swept from my lungs.
It took me a few seconds to find my tongue.
"Thank you. I'm sure they probably just stopped there to get high or something.
Just bad timing on my part." The conversation was stilted and dry as if we were two strangers, but Ronan felt like anything but a stranger.
"Guess I'll head inside." I smiled weakly and slipped into the diner.
By the time I found the courage to look back toward the door, he was already crossing the street.
His big shoulders strained the work shirt he was wearing.
He flexed his right hand a few times, and I remembered that he'd had it bandaged the last time we saw each other. It was the last time, literally.
I hurried to the door and pushed it open. "Is your hand better?" I yelled.
He looked back and held it up. "Good as new." He continued back to the worksite, and I walked to the locker room to put my things away. Hank was busy chopping vegetables.
"Oh no, is Kyle sick, too?" I asked.
Hank nodded his big head without looking up. Given the speed at which he ripped through the onions on his block that was probably a good call. "Where's Carol?" he asked.
"She sprained her ankle at line dancing."
Hank stopped and looked at me. "You've got to be kidding? So it's just us?"
"Yep and Peggy."
"Right, so it's just us?" He chuckled and returned to his chopping. "Guess it's good the flu wiped out half that construction site. We don't need a packed house right now."
I stopped and looked around the locker room doorway.
"Just don't get sick, Hank, cuz I can't chop onions like that, and my omelets are a sight to behold and not a good one.
" I put away my purse and tied on my apron.
The last few minutes kept replaying through my mind.
It was hard enough not talking to Ronan at all, as if we'd never met, but it was even harder having a conversation where we acted like strangers.
He'd scared the car away with crossed arms and a glower. I was glad he showed up when he did.
"Hey, Hank," I said as I stopped to grab a tray with clean coffee cups. "Did you see that green car that was parked in front of the diner?"
"I rode my bike to work and pulled straight down the alley to the back." He paused his knife again. "Green Chevy Impala? Old and rusty?"
"That's the one," I said.
"I saw them out there last week. I figured they were lost or getting wasted or something. They never came inside. They just sat out there and then took off eventually."
"Yeah, today, too. Oh well, I'm sure they're just passing through.
" I carried the tray out to the front of the restaurant.
Across the way, I spotted Ronan wheeling some bricks around in a wheelbarrow.
I watched him for a few seconds, seconds I didn't really have, but I found him fascinating to watch.
I was startled by someone coming up to the door and knocking. "We're open in twenty minutes," I called.
The young man smiled coyly and held up a bouquet of red roses. "I have a delivery for Rachel," he yelled through the door.
I walked to the door and opened it. "Delivery for Rachel," he repeated.
I took the flowers. They were a lush red and had a perfume that was almost overwhelming. "Thank you." I locked the door and carried them through to the locker room. Roses were wonderful, but no one wanted to smell them when they were eating ham and eggs. I didn't need to look at the card.
"Another gift from your rich lover boy?" Hank teased.
"He's not my lover boy," I quipped as I passed through.
"No but he sure is trying hard."
I walked into the locker room and put the roses on the sink counter. I pulled out the card.
Just thinking about you,
Evan
Evan had bought the house, my dream house, but I had not committed to living there yet.
I was shocked at how persistent he'd been.
I was sure he would have moved on, found someone else to enter into his dreamy little pact by now, but he was still calling and sending gifts and flowers.
Mom had mentioned last week, when he sent an expensive bottle of perfume, that I was going to have to decide soon.
She had been hesitant about the idea at first, but as we struggled to pay the bills, the whole notion of our own house had started to sound just a little too tempting.
I pushed the card back into the flowers. I didn't have time to daydream about flowers, pretty houses or men with green eyes and impossibly broad shoulders. I had a diner to run today.
Hank and I were left to close. Peggy had sweetly offered to stay and help, but it was actually easier without her help.
I finished mopping the dining room floor.
As predicted, the day had been slow. Like everywhere else, the construction site had been ravaged by the flu.
They were down to half the usual work crew, so we had half the usual lunch customers.
Unfortunately, the dining room had been a chorus of coughs and sneezes, and the usually boisterous conversation had been tired and weak.
There just wasn't any way I was going to avoid this flu bug.
I rolled the bucket and mop to the back and found Hank sitting on a stool looking pale and with sweat beading his forehead. He was clutching a glass of orange juice.
I stopped the rolling bucket. "Not you too?" I asked.
"It hit me about two hours ago. I was hoping that I was just fatigued, but nope, I've got it."
"Go home. I'll let Carol know. She might have to close the diner tomorrow. It's one thing to be short on servers but no cook means no food."
"I'll talk to Carol later." Hank downed the orange juice. "Think I'm already past the Vitamin C supplement stage. I feel lousy. I'm leaving my bike here. I called for a ride. They should be here soon."
I crinkled my nose. "You look terrible. Is there anything I need to do in the kitchen?"
"No, I've got it all ready for tomorrow." His phone beeped. "Ride's here. I'll call Carol when I get home." Hank walked out.
I went to the stockroom for napkins to fill the containers. I had to shuffle some boxes around to get to the napkins. The front door opened and shut.
I walked out with the pile of napkins. "Did you forget something?" I froze and stared at the three men standing in the diner. I could see their green car parked out front.
They were definitely not there for pancakes. I recognized one, a man with greasy dark hair and beady eyes, as a construction worker, only I hadn't seen him since the first week.
It took me a second to find my voice, and even then, I could barely hear it over the loud pounding of my pulse.
"We're closed." I glanced sideways. A tray of silverware, fresh from the dishwasher, was sitting on the counter.
I wasn't sure how much defense I could muster with a fork and butter knife but I was willing to find out.
"Told you she was a looker," the man I recognized said through tobacco-stained teeth.
The man who I'd seen behind the wheel this morning motioned for the other man, a large guy with ruddy, freckled skin and cheeks that were so round they nearly swallowed his eyes, to move toward the cash register.
"We're not going to hurt you, princess," the apparent leader said, "just need you to open that cash register. We know you've had plenty of customers with that big worksite across the street."
A short nervous laugh spurted from my lips.
"What year do you think this is? We have almost no cash in the register.
Everyone uses a card or their phone." I was nervous and, at the same time, shocked at how cocky I sounded.
I reached casually toward the silverware.
I had to grab blindly and ended up with a fork in my hand.
I held it slightly behind me as I walked to the register.
I was hyperaware that I was all alone in the diner, and while the leader seemed mostly interested in the cash, the ex-worker licked his lips as he looked me up and down.
I walked over to the register and opened it up. There wasn't more than three hundred dollars in bills and coins inside, but I wasn't going to fight them for it. Carol would not have expected me to.
The redhead stomped over in big boots and swept up all the cash in the register. "Like she said, there ain't much in here."
"I'll search her," the leering man said. He licked his lips again. "They keep all their tips in their apron pockets."
He marched toward me. "I didn't want to give up my hard-earned tips, but mostly, I didn't want the creep to touch me.
He lunged at me, and I stabbed his arm forcefully with the fork.
He yelled out and swung his arm at me. I flew back and landed hard against the counter.
Pain ripped through me and my vision blurred.
I searched frantically for the wad of bills from my tips and threw it at the man.
The cash blew past him as he lunged at me again.
A loud bang was followed by a rush of cool air.