Chapter 6
RORY
Iam wearing a t-shirt with the diner’s logo, black pants, and a white apron around my waist. It’s not going to stay clean long, which is my first thought on the apron.
I am not clumsy, but I’m not little Miss Perfect either.
Shelby just said to get a clean one if it gets too grubby, so I’m not going to worry about it.
“We have some of the local MC frequent and we do everything we can to make sure they get the food they want, even if it’s not on the menu.
They bring the diner a lot of business, and don’t be scared of them.
They may look intimidating, but they are harmless…
to us at least,” Shelby rubs my lower back I’m sure to ease what she’s saying.
“MC…motorcycle club? You mean like Sons of Anarchy on the TV?” I stutter.
Shelby laughs, “Well, yeah, but not really…hmm, okay, they are a bike club, but they are not bad guys. They own businesses in town and have helped many people get on their feet. They also funded Maybell’s treatment, or she probably would have died.
They cleaned the streets of thugs and drug dealers.
So, no, they are not like the TV. They are bikers who love to ride, and a brotherhood. I’m babbling, aren’t I?”
The giggle pops out before I can stop it, so I nod that yes, she is, which has her laughing too.
The evening menu seems to go down well with the customers who come into the diner. They order and eat without a word of complaint. Sitting and having conversations with others at their own table and tables nearby. It’s very sociable, and it is heartwarming to see a community like this.
“Young lady…” I quickly walk over to a gentleman who has his hand in the air to gain my attention.
“What can I get for you?” I asked with a bright smile, because honestly, he smirked then winked at me as I approached his table.
“Stop messing with the girl,” the other man at the table says while rolling his eyes.
“I would like another coffee and a piece of banana cream pie, please.”
He says all this with a grin, and I giggle a little because honestly, I think this is his way of flirting with me. “You sure can. I’ll be right back.”
Once settled with his pie and coffee, I quickly make my way around the tables. Picking up used dishes, asking if anyone wants anything else, and wishing them a good evening as they leave.
Once the diner has quietened, Shelby gives my forearm a squeeze, “Rory, you are a natural. Your first week, and you’ve done well. Your tip jar is growing too.”
I laugh because if I told her that the tips are nice, but I could turn them into serious dollars in a short amount of time she’d look at me differently. Most people think because I can juggle money and do some investing with success, I’d make them millionaires out of nothing.
“It has been a good week, Shelby. I’m enjoying the job, too.
The people are so friendly, and nobody has made me feel like an outsider.
Small towns often do that, but here I’ve not felt that at all,” I state this with some surprise as I realize what I’ve said is true.
Everyone has been more than welcoming, whether it be at the grocery store or the park where I’ve taken to walking each morning.
“We’re closing up soon, so let’s get the tables cleared and wiped down.” Shelby picks up the nearest chair and upends it onto the table.
Half-an-hour later we have the diner cleared and ready for the morning. I sweep the floor, and whoever is on for the first shift will mop the floor before placing the chairs down again.
“Where is your truck, Rory?” Shelby asks as we head out the back door, along with Brian who is the cook today.
I quickly answer because I don’t want them thinking I can’t afford a vehicle. “It was a rental, and I took it back. I’ve made the payment for a Honda Civic Hatchback. It had to be serviced and valeted before I could physically have it, so they are going to deliver to me tomorrow I hope.”
Brian frowns, “So how are you planning to get home tonight?”
“I’ll walk or see if an Uber is available,” I respond, taking my phone out of my purse.
Shelby shakes her head, “Get in my car. You are not walking or paying for an Uber. I’ll take you home, and if you don’t have your car by the time you come to work tomorrow, text me and I’ll pick you up. No arguments.”
“Okay, thank you.” I’m not sure I dare argue with her because she’s fairly stern in her warning of no arguments.
Brian, I notice is chuckling as he heads to his truck, and shouts, “Good night,” before slamming the door closed.
Three days later, I have my car. It’s great, and I love it. It’s easy to drive and I reckon it’s economical on gas too. It is sitting in the driveway, and every time I look at it, I feel proud of myself for taking the step and buying it, asking no one for help.
This morning I am sweeping the path to the front door of the house. I’d been weeding the slim border, and it had left some dirt on the path. Rather than allow it to be trampled into the house, I sweep it back onto the border.
“Good morning, neighbor!”
Turning, I see my neighbor next door looking at me with a smile.
“Good morning.” I step closer so I don’t have to shout. “I’m Aurora, but everyone calls me Rory.” I hold my hand out to shake when I get close enough.
“I’m Martin, and my wife indoors is Cora.
It’s nice to have you as a neighbor. If you ever need anything, just give us a shout.
” Martin is a 5’11” well-built, blond-haired man, more than likely in his early seventies.
He has laughter lines around his eyes, cheeks and mouth, and he has the sort of personality that has you smiling at him without knowing you are.
“Same here, Martin. I’m on the late shift at the diner for now. So, you’ll not see me in the evening. I’ll try to drive in quietly, so I don’t disturb you when I come home.”
“Hey, don’t you go worrying about that. As long as you get home safely, that is the main thing.”
“Martin!” We both hear being shouted, to which Martin gives me a wink. “The wife calls,” he laughs as he turns and heads back into his house.
The next three weeks follow the same pattern. Morning run, house chores, the few there are because when you live on your own it’s easy to see you are not picking up after anyone else. Speak to Cora and Martin if they are outside doing garden chores. Work, then go home again.
Walking into work this evening, I get ready for my shift and come to a stop in front of my locker.
My eyes water, and I swallow hard. I just realized I’ve not thought about Terrence for a few days.
I rub my sternum where a sharp ache has appeared.
I breathe deeply, getting myself together before I have to face Shelby.
Now let me tell you, Shelby doesn’t miss a trick, and she’d quickly ask what is wrong.
The last thing I want is to have to explain, because that could be what would break the dam of tears I’m holding back.
I shake my head, grab my apron, and quickly wrap it around my waist and tie it on. The best thing for me right now is work. I can’t afford to dwell on something I cannot change, and I know this is what Terrence wanted for me.
Serving and chatting with customers passes the time fairly rapidly.
When the door chimes as it opens, I take no particular notice, since it’s just a sign a customer is entering the diner.
But when I look up I see a group of men in leather jackets with a logo on the back and patches on the front, it makes me realize these are biker club men, or some of them.
I grab four cups and the coffee jug and walk over to where they are taking a seat. “Good evening. Coffee?”
“Yeah, darlin’, that would be great,” one responds with a smile and a wink.
I place the cups and top them off before checking everything else was on the table that they might need. “I’ll be back in a moment for your order.”
“Oh, no need. Four of the day's specials are fine, thanks, babe,” another one says, and I nod quickly as I walk away.
“Darlin’,” “Babe,” gee whizz I’ve not had sweet names thrown my way in quite a long time. In fact, thinking about it Terrence only ever called me Aurora, and nothing as a pet name.
Shelby is smirking at me as I take the plates from her, balancing one in each hand. I’m not proficient with more than that at this time and always feel amazed when I see Shelby carrying four or six plates at once.
“You new here, babe?” I’m asked by the one who called me Babe last time.
“Yes, I’ve been working here for three weeks. I’m new to town too, and before you ask, I love it. I have great neighbors and enjoy my job here at the diner,” I reply quickly and then head back for the next two plates before they can ask any more nosy questions.
“Can you give me a hand in the kitchen, Rory, please?” Tracy, our cook of the day, asks.
“Of course,” I quickly respond and step through the swing doors into the kitchen. Now, I don’t need instructions on why she needs a helping hand. The sink is overflowing and pans are lining up on the counter. “Oh, you got a little bogged down I see.”
Tracy grimaces, “Yeah, I did. I’m not as good at staying on top of things as Brian. He seems to have it all down to a fine art. Me, I’m a darn nightmare to myself.”
Giggling because she is shaking her head at her own misgivings. “Let me tell Shelby I’m in here with you so she can watch the diners.”
“I’ll tell her, Rory. It’s my fault, so I’ll take the backlash if there is any.”
I watch as Tracy leaves the kitchen and get down to filling the dishwasher.
Thankfully, there are two people in the kitchen.
But I throw pans into hot, soapy water in the sink and scrub them clean.
It won’t take that long, I don’t think, and let’s be honest you can only do one job at a time.
As long as I’m working and earning my salary, I don’t care what I’m doing.
When it’s time to leave, I give a wave to Tracy who climbs into a vehicle with her husband, who is always here on time to get her. Anyone can see he’s besotted with her, and she with him I admit.
“I’ll see you in two days, Shelby,” I say as I’m unlocking my car.
Shelby walks over to me and holds the top of the driver's door as I climb inside.
“Could you change that day's shift for me, Rory? I need you to come in on the morning shift because Jayne has a hospital appointment with her mother. Her mother has had to have a hip operation, and it hasn’t been successful, so they are talking about doing another one.”
“Oh no, that’s terrible. Of course, I will come and do that shift.”
“Thank you, Rory. Now, you drive carefully and I’ll see you in two days when the birds get out of bed,” Shelby laughs at her own remark, and I’m thinking I’d rather work later than that early in the morning.
Shelby had told me she had rearranged the hours of the shift patterns.
The morning which is the first shift is now 6:00 until 11:00, the second shift of the day, 11:00 until 4:00, and the longest shift being the evening shift 4:00 until 11:00.
I have only covered the late shift, as I think of it, so I admit I’m looking forward to seeing what it’s like to work in the morning.