by C. J. Birch
“I’m not trying to be your nursemaid. I’m trying to make sure you’re following doctor’s orders. Dr. Chun said you need to eat healthy if you want to stay ahead of your diabetes.”
He shrugged. They’d had this argument every Monday since he was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes a year ago. He picked up the book on the arm of his chair and held the cover out to her. “Have you read this one? It’s about—”
“Dad, you know I hate those kinds of books,” she called from the kitchen without looking at what he was showing her. She didn’t need to. He only ever read mysteries or thrillers. As far back as she could remember, he’d always had at least two on the go at any given time. She’d asked him once why he always read two at the same time, and he’d said it was because he liked to have options, in case he wasn’t in the mood for one.
“These ones aren’t graphic. They don’t have any blood or guts in them.”
“I like happy books.” She placed a plate with baked chicken and steamed broccoli on the table next to him with a glass of cold milk.
His nostrils flared. “I’m not eating that. I thought I asked you to bring me a Coke.”
Lauren threw her hands up in the air. “Gah.”
* * *
On her way home, Lauren decided to take the Dundas streetcar so she could cut through the park. The sky was overcast, but the air had a warm breeze to it. People were out enjoying what was probably the last good day of the season.
It was still so close to summer that none of the leaves had turned yet. The city seemed to be in limbo, not quite autumn but also not summer anymore.
Lauren took the path that led past the off-leash dog park. It was packed with dogs and owners making the most of the weather. A lot of barking was going on at the far side, and when she looked, caught in the middle of several dogs trying to grab at a ball held way over their heads, was a blue-haired girl. Lauren stopped so fast, the couple behind her almost ran her over with their stroller. Lauren stepped off the path to watch. She had no doubt it was Hayley. There was no missing that hair or what Lauren had come to think of as Hayley’s signature leather jacket.
Lauren continued down the path, which curved with the dog park, never taking her eyes off Hayley. She was mesmerizing. Her head was thrown back, and she was laughing so loudly that the sound carried over to where Lauren was standing. She’d throw the ball and watch as the dogs raced and scrambled over the grass, all eager to be the one to get it, and then they’d all rush back so fast Hayley would almost get knocked over by their exuberance. She’d pull the ball from some dog’s drooling mouth and hold it up and laugh as they tried to jump up her to get it.
Hayley’s hair was down, the blue locks blowing in the breeze, and she looked so carefree and happy, the sight sent a shock wave through Lauren. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been that happy herself, if ever. An emotion tugged at her, and she couldn’t place it. It wasn’t jealousy or nostalgia or regret for not being the type of person who could show that much emotion in public. But in a way she did feel all those things, just not with any malice. No, what she was feeling was different, almost a physical sensation deep in her stomach, something close to longing, but Lauren couldn’t tell what exactly she was longing for. The idea of letting a bunch of filthy dogs paw at her was unappealing in the extreme.
Hayley hadn’t worked at the diner for more than a few days, but Lauren already sensed she did everything big. She talked big, gesturing wildly with her arms, and she laughed big. Sometimes Lauren could swear she heard her laughter all the way in her apartment above the diner. Even her smile filled her entire face. She made rooms feel small and ideas seem massive, and in that package, Lauren found something very enticing. She just hadn’t figured out what yet.
Several large barks drew Lauren’s focus back to the dog park. She’d been standing there for ten minutes watching Hayley. It was only when Hayley turned and their eyes met across the park that Lauren realized it was a bit creepy to be watching one of her employees. She did a pathetic wave and continued on her way to the diner, only to stop again when she heard her name being called.
“Lauren, hey.” Hayley was out of breath by the time she caught up.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Lauren looked around but couldn’t see a dog following her anywhere.
The lines in Hayley’s face dropped. “Was I supposed to be working right now?”
Lauren pointed back to the dog park. “Your dog.”
Hayley smiled one of her full-face smiles and laughed. “Oh, God. I couldn’t afford a dog even if I had the time to look after one.” She pointed back at the park. “This is the free version of owning a dog. All the fun of playing with them and none of the downsides.” She bit her lip in contemplation mode. “Although snuggles at night would be nice. I wonder if you can rent dogs for an evening?”
“Snuggles are one of the best reasons for owning a pet.” At least that’s what Lauren imagined. She’d never had a pet that was actually good at snuggling, mostly because she’d only ever owned cats.
“True. So what are you up to on your day off?”
Lauren scrunched up her face, embarrassed by her lameness. “Visiting my dad. He doesn’t get out much since he retired, so I like to take him groceries and precooked meals. Healthy stuff, or else he’ll order junk.” Since when had she become an over-sharer?
“That’s sweet.”
“It’s lame. You probably got up to all kinds of exciting things on your day off.”
Hayley smirked. “How did you know it was my day off?”
“I make the schedule.”
Hayley’s cheeks pinked. “Right. Being my boss and all.” She dug her boots into the dirt at the side of the path. “Well, I should probably get going. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She waved and was off before Lauren could say anything else.
As she watched Hayley saunter down the path like she had nowhere important to be, it hit Lauren what she’d been feeling. Anticipation. And it was such a strange, complex thing to be feeling for her line cook.
Chapter Eight
“So, are you having a boy or a girl?” Hayley had her phone propped on her windowsill, so she had her hands free. She’d begun FaceTiming her sister lately, and it felt good to see a friendly face.
Hannah frowned through the phone. “I told you, Hale. Derek doesn’t want to know, and that means I can’t.”
“Please. I’m sure you peeked.” Hayley was sitting cross-legged on her bed counting out the money she had left. It came to a little more than eighty dollars.
“Have you ever seen one of those things? The technicians need a degree to tell if it has a penis or not. There’s no way I could tell from just a quick look.”
“So you’re really going to leave it until it pops out?”
A short pause on the other side of the phone. Hayley knew this suspense was killing her sister. She was a planner. From an early age she would organize her toys, using every sort of method—her dolls arranged by size, books alphabetical, CDs by artist and year. She’d even organized her clothes by type and use. The idea of decorating a nursery without knowing the baby’s sex would slowly drive her crazy. Hayley was kind of glad she wouldn’t be around for that.
“Yes. Derek wants to be surprised.”
“But you hate surprises, Han. You’re really going to spend the next six months calling the baby ‘it’? What about names?”
“Stop. We made this decision, together, and I can live with that. We’ll decorate the room in neutral colours. You know I hate blue and pink anyway. And we’ll pick a boy name and a girl name, or something gender neutral.”
“Okay.” Hayley stuffed her money into an envelope and slipped it under her mattress. She’d go to the bank tomorrow after work and deposit it. She didn’t feel comfortable having it sitting in her room. Ed had warned her to always leave her door locked, like, no shit, but that didn’t mean someone couldn’t pick the lock.
“What do Mom and Dad think about this?”
Hannah’s voice grew very quiet and tight. “For Christ’s sake.”
“Okay, sorry. Geez. Subject change.”
“How’s the new job going?”
“I have to wear a hairnet. But I like the people and the work.”
“How’s your boss?”
“To be honest, I’m not really sure who my boss is. Right now, everyone’s my boss. Lauren’s the manager of the whole place. Then there’s the head cook, Ramiro. He’s in charge of the kitchen and the cooks. But he broke an ankle the other day, and I haven’t seen him since he hired me. So I have this guy named Ezra bossing me around until Ramiro gets better.”
“Have you told Mom and Dad yet?”
“No, and I’m not going to. I’m still applying for real jobs. Something will come up soon, and then I won’t have to worry them.”
“Just promise me you’re being careful.”
“I promise. You have nothing to worry about.”
She hadn’t told Hannah about getting kicked out of her place. Losing her job was bad enough. She didn’t want to stress her out more, especially with a baby on the way. Hannah hadn’t said anything, but Hayley could tell when her sister was stressed, and this baby, especially with how Derek was, would worry her because she couldn’t control this situation. Derek, being Derek, would go overboard trying to do things for her, to make her comfortable, keep her from overworking, and that would make her nuts. Hayley liked Derek, he was a great guy, but he had a lot to learn about her sister. Sometimes she wondered how he could be so clueless. They’d dated for three years before they got married, which had been two years ago. And in all that time he hadn’t figured out he’d married a control freak.
Lauren reminded her a little of her sister. In the short time she’d known her, she seemed to need to have things just so. She’d watched Lauren that first day from the kitchen. Every time customers left, she’d rearrange the salt and pepper shakers so they lined up with each placement. She was the only server to do that. Lucy just shoved everything up the counter so it wasn’t in their way.
Even the way she looked, with her ironed uniform and neat hair and trimmed nails, told Hayley she took a certain pride in looking put together. Hannah was the same way. She’d never show up in public with chipped nail polish or wrinkled clothes. Growing up, Hayley had loved finding the perfect way to push Hannah’s buttons. She found she had the same urge with Lauren, just to see how she’d react. Lauren made her want to cut through that perfection to find the messy interior.
* * *
Ramiro hobbled into the kitchen with two crutches squeezed under his armpits, Lauren trailing behind him. “I told you not to come in today. Theo and Ezra have the kitchen under control.”
“I wanted to see how Pollyanna was doing.”
“Pollyanna?” asked Lauren.
“The newbie. Hayley.”
Lauren rolled her eyes. For as long as she could remember, Ramiro gave people nicknames, but only people he liked. So if Ramiro had already given Hayley a nickname after knowing her for only a few minutes, it meant she’d passed some unknown test. His approval eased Lauren’s mind a bit, as she was still unsure about Hayley. She was probably being paranoid. Aaron had called earlier yesterday to check up on the cook situation, and she’d been happy to tell him that they’d hired someone.
Ezra hadn’t asked to be reassigned after their shift together, which was his highest compliment.
“She’s not in until this afternoon.” Lauren was following Ramiro around clucking at him, afraid he might topple over any second.
He leaned his crutches in the corner next to the fridge. “Well, I can relieve someone and work the evening shift with her.” He had a plastic walking cast wrapped around a plaster cast. Lauren wasn’t sure if he’d bribed someone to give him the walking cast. Didn’t you get one of those only after you’d had the plaster one taken off?
Ramiro looked down at his cast and back up at Lauren. “Relax, sweetums. I just have to wear the plaster cast for a week, and then I’m in this plastic thing. If I wasn’t so indestructible it could’ve been a lot worse.”
She hooked the cloth she was carrying in her palm and placed her fists on her hips. “Indestructible?”
“If you were indestructible you wouldn’t be walking around with a limp, old man,” said Ezra from his station in front of the griddle.
Ramiro waved him off. “It’s a temporary setback. How’d Pollyanna do?”
Ezra shrugged as he flipped a pancake. “She didn’t annoy the shit out of me. But she’s totally gre—” He stopped when he saw Ramiro run his thumb across his neck from behind Lauren. “We need to get rid of this fu—” He saw the look of death on Lauren’s face and switched words. “Frigging lingo. It messes everyone up. It’s probably what messed Hayley up the most.”
“This is still Greta’s diner, and as long as it is, the lingo stays. It’s part of the charm.”
Theo blew a raspberry. “Not my word choice.” He exchanged a look with Ezra as he slipped by to grab a container of prepped cucumbers for the lunch rush.
Ramiro rubbed his head as he passed and limped over to Ezra. “That’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard you say about anyone, ever. You got a crush on her or something?”
Ezra laughed. “Yeah, right. She’s not my type.”
“Oh yeah? When Theo started working here, you told me a one-armed orangutan on ecstasy could do a better job than him.”
“It’s true.” Theo laughed. “Although I think the city would frown on me using my feet to flip burgers.”
“All I said was that she didn’t suck. Besides, I’m not her type, anyway. I’ve got the manly bits where she prefers the lady bits.” He demonstrated with his hands.
“Okay,” said Lauren, covering her eyes with one hand. “I think that’s incredibly inappropriate talk about an employee who’s not here to join that conversation.”
“You’re probably just jealous she didn’t spend her whole shift checking out your pecs.” Ramiro flicked one of Ezra’s pecs playfully.
“I’m okay letting the weird ones pass me by.”
“Weird?” asked Theo, the only one who hadn’t met her yet.
“Yeah.” Ezra plated his pancakes and set them on the ledge and rang the bell. “She’s…I don’t know, she’s weird looking.”
“She’s not weird looking,” said Lauren.
“She’s got Smurf hair.”
“Lots of people have blue hair. Doesn’t make them weird looking,” she said.
“Doesn’t matter what she looks like, as long as she can do the job,” said Ramiro.
“Besides, I think we should be more worried about the breakfast sandwiches Hipster Dan is making.” Theo pulled a bowl of tomatoes out of the fridge and scooted around Ramiro and Lauren to place it next to his station on the griddle.
“Sandwiches? I thought they were making wraps.”
“They’ve got a bunch of stuff now. Luna gave me a bite of hers this morning.”
Lauren smacked Theo with her cloth. “Why are you encouraging her?”
Theo ducked out of the way. “I wanted to see what we’re up against.”
“And?” she asked.
“I think we need to start making more to-go items.”
“That good?”
“I noticed we’ve lost a few regulars this week. It’s too early to say. Maybe it’s just an off week…”
“But maybe not,” Lauren said. “Poop.”
Ramiro chucked a slice of cucumber at her. “Swear like an adult, wom—”
“Hey.” She held up a finger at him. “I can swear any way I like. Go home and let these guys work. Rest up. I don’t need you tripping over something and breaking your other ankle.”
Ramiro blew a raspberry at her too. “Stop clucking at me. I’m fine. Maybe I’ll go over and check out Hipster Dan’s stuff.”
“Don’t you dare. It’s bad enough that Luna’s giving him her money.”
“Lauren,” Vic called from the front. “You’
re needed.”
“Okay.” She pointed a finger at Ramiro. “Go home. Hayley will be fine with Theo this evening. I don’t want you worrying about her.”
“Lauren, I told you I couldn’t work a double shift today.”
“Lauren,” Vic called again.
“Coming.” She threw the cloth into the laundry bin and went out in front to help Vic with the customers. “This isn’t finished.”
* * *
Lauren flipped the open sign on the door and rolled her shoulders a few times. She’d worked a double today, and it felt like each hour had placed a ten-pound weight on her shoulders. She’d finally ordered Ramiro home, convinced him that Hayley could close up without his help.
The first strains of “Echo Beach” drifted in through the kitchen, followed by Hayley’s soft humming. By the time the chorus had started, the volume was at double. When Lauren stuck her head into the kitchen, Hayley was scrubbing the griddle with the scraper, bobbing her head to the music, her blue hair piled in a high messy bun on top of her head. She’d thrown her apron on the counter behind her, and underneath was a yellow T-shirt with the words it’s on like written above an eight-bit Donkey Kong.
Ezra was right. Hayley was kind of weird. She reminded Lauren of a perpetual teenager, those people who refused to grow up and take on adult responsibilities. Lauren had been dealing with the type most of her life, because at some point they all thought it would be cool to work in a retro diner.
“I’m going to run back to my apartment to grab a sweater. Are you okay by yourself for a while?”