by Sarah Price
The quaint restaurant looked like an interesting idea. Getting out of the car, she started strolling down the sidewalk. There were rows and rows of shops. Elizabeth liked the look of the town. It was quaint and reminded her of home. She liked the thought of spending some time here.
“I think I have found my place,”she said to herself as she made her way into the restaurant.
Walking through the door, she spotted a sign hanging from a post that read“Seat Yourself.”Looking around, she noticed that the restaurant was crowded so she decided the best place to sit would be the counter. As she made her way over, she grabbed a tourist magazine that she hoped would list places to stay and visit.
“Hello! Welcome to the Berlin Diner!”
Elizabeth looked up, surprised at the cheerful voice that greeted her. A tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and bright blue eyes smiled as he leaned forward and wiped the Formica countertop in front of her. His face was worn with age, a few deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes as well as on his forehead. Still, he smiled with genuine joy as he spoke.“You look like you could use something to drink.”He paused, leaning an elbow on the counter as he studied her.“Let me guess…coffee with cream and a touch of sugar.”
She laughed, letting out a sound she hadn’t heard for a while and, like a young school girl, she blushed.
“Got it right, didn’t I?”He appeared delighted, if not slightly surprised.
“How did you know?”
This time, he laughed.“I figure I have a 50/50 chance of getting it right each time. Most folks here will ask for coffee even before sitting down,”he added.
Something about his innocent flirtation touched her. Here was a man who worked in a diner, probably long hours and day in, day out. Yet he seemed about as happy as anyone could hope to be, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. She found herself watching him, admiring how he moved down the counter, joking with a larger man sitting a few stools away from her. Whoever this man was, clearly he was well liked in this establishment.
When he returned, he set down a coffee cup before her and gently pushed it closer to her.“There you go, my dear.”
My dear. She glanced up from the menu, surprised at hearing a term of endearment from a complete stranger. Another blush which, to further her embarrassment, did not go unnoticed and made him chuckle.
“Did you decide on something to eat, then?”
She hadn’t realized that he was waiting for her order.“Oh,”she gasped and glanced down at the menu.“I’m sorry. I just…”She just what? She didn’t know how to finish the sentence so she quickly scanned the laminated single sheet menu. Her heart pounded and she felt the color rise to her cheeks once again.“Eggs and toast, I suppose.”
He gave her a sideways glance as he took the menu from her.“You sure about that?”When she looked up, he grinned.“You’re not from around here, are you?”
She sighed. Was it that apparent? No, she wasn’t from around there. She wasn’t sure where she was from anymore.“Just visiting for a spell,”she heard herself answer.“Reinventing myself, I guess.”
He lifted an eyebrow and studied her. She felt uncomfortable under his gaze, even though her heart continued to pound. When was the last time anyone had paid such attention to her? After thirty-five years, William didn’t have to and, as far as her children went, they didn’t want to.“Reinventing yourself, eh?”The way he said it made her feel foolish. Who reinvents herself at fifty-four years of age? Still, the look in his eyes did not speak of judgment, but merely of curiosity. When she didn’t respond, he took a step toward the kitchen.“Then I best get your order ready. Can’t have you doing that on an empty stomach now, can we?”Elizabeth couldn’t help but suppress a smile.
While waiting for her breakfast, Elizabeth scanned through a newspaper that someone had left behind . Her eyes scanned the newspaper without really reading the words. What did she really care if the Wooster Council was discussing abatements or if a Sugarcreek police officer resigned to accept a job in Strasburg? She did smile when she saw an announcement for a Fabulous 50 Fling at the local firehouse for the upcoming weekend. The thought crossed her mind that, had William been with her, she might have asked him to take her there. Of course, he wasn’t one for dancing, preferring a quiet night at the cabin in front of a fire or sitting on the porch swing with a good James Patterson book.
“Here you are, Ms. Reinvention!”His jovial teasing caught her off guard as the counter man set the plate down before her, expertly missing the edge of the newspaper.“Anything of interest to you in there ?”
She set the paper down and shook her head.“Not really,”she replied realizing that the words sounded cold which wasn’t how she had meant them.“I mean, it’s local news and since I’m not from around here…”She didn’t finish the sentence.
“I see.”He looked up as the small bell over the door jingled and a new customer walked in. With a smile and wave, the man greeted the newcomer but kept his attention on Elizabeth.“And where are you from, Ms….?”His question trailed off and she knew she had to respond.
“Fielding. Elizabeth Fielding,”she said quickly.
“Ah, Ms. Fielding!”He wiped his hand on his white apron and held it out to her.“Carl Carlson at your service.”
His name gave her pause but she accepted his handshake.
“I know, I know,”he smiled.“My parents had an interesting sense of humor, I suppose.”
She flushed. Had her thoughts been so transparent?“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
He held up his hand.“I’m actually a junior which makes me Carl Carlson’s son Carl.”His laughter rang throughout the near empty diner.“I always vowed I’d never do that to my son. Name him that way, I mean.”
“Did you?”
He seemed surprised that she asked him the question. Truth be told, her inquiry startled her as well. It wasn’t like her to pry into someone else’s personal business. But Carl Carlson didn’t seem to mind.“Nope.”was his simple response. He smiled before slipping away to tend to the other customers.
She wondered about that as her eyes drifted to his right hand. No ring. Was it possible that a man with such an outgoing personality wasn’t married and had no children? In a way, she wondered which was better: to never have children to love or to love children who simply didn’t care? Oh, she scolded herself. That wasn’t entirely true. They cared about her but in a peripheral sort of way. For all of the love and time she doled out to them over the years, when they turned of age and left, Sophia focusing on college and Ryan on his job, they certainly made it clear that she was an afterthought, on most occasions. Ryan’s relief that she agreed to this trip spoke loud and clear for both of her children.
“More coffee?”
She looked up, her eyes meeting Carl’s for just a second before she looked away.“No, but thank you.”
“You staying nearby?”
Elizabeth hesitated. Where was she staying? A little motel on Route 39? Did it really matter? It certainly wasn’t as comfortable as the cabin but she didn’t want to go there. Too many memories would haunt her; most of the last vacation she had spent with William.“I’m not sure where I’m staying,”she admitted.“I just arrived.”
He lifted an eyebrow and shook his head.“That’s not a place for a fine lady like yourself. Especially if you are reinventing yourself.”She looked up and he smiled.“Reinvent yourself there and I imagine you’ll be cruising down the road on a Harley next. But wait…”He glanced over her shoulder and out the window.“No. Don’t see a Harley’s out there so I’d imagine that’s not the type of reinvention you’re looking for!”
She laughed at his joke. That was twice in one day.
“No,”he said, leaning forward again.“If you want to reinvent yourself, Ms. Fielding, I have just the place for you to do it.”He paused, she imagined for effect.“I know a lovely woman with a pretty little cottage on her property. She’s elderly but full of spunk and wisdom. She’ll help you reinvent yourse
lf, Ms. Fielding.”
“It’s just Elizabeth.”
He nodded.“OK, Just Elizabeth.” He reached into the front pocket of his apron, fumbling around for something. When he withdrew his hand, he had a pen and piece of paper. Quickly, he scribbled something down on the paper and slid it across the counter to her.“Mary is just the medicine for you, just Elizabeth. Trust me on that one.”With a wink and a final smile, he retreated once again, disappearing through a two-way door into what she imagined must be the kitchen.
She looked down at the piece of paper. It was a green and white striped receipt. She frowned as she tried to read his handwriting. Not that it was messy, she just didn’t have on her glasses. Fishing around in her knock-off Gucci purse, she extracted her drug-store readers and slid them over her nose so that she could read what was written:
Mary Troyer
Third dirt road off OH 634
There must have been a mistake. Re-reading it to make certain she wasn’t mistaken, she shook her head and looked up, searching for Carl. He was nowhere to be seen. Had he been teasing her, giving her such a non-address?
The bell over the door tingled again and a clamor of noise interrupted her thoughts. She glanced over her shoulder, surprised to see a group of people file into the diner. A woman with red hair and even redder lipstick held the door open, waving a not-so-perfectly manicured hand as she directed the group inside.“Hurry along now,”she directed, her raspy voice demanding their attention as she tried to control their efforts.“Take those booths back there.”She pointed over their heads even though no one was paying any attention.
Returning her focus to the plate of food in front of her, Elizabeth tried to ignore the crowd of people. She set down the piece of paper, reminding herself to ask Carl Carlson about his strange address when he returned. Unfortunately, he never did.
She saw the door open from the kitchen and he looked over at the group of people. She thought she saw something change in his face, the sparkle in his eyes clouding over with something more akin to despair. But the smile never wavered as he took a deep breath and headed toward the booths in the back of the diner.
Curious, Elizabeth watched him. She had never been one to people watch. Another one of those“mind your own business”policies that she had been raised with. However, she couldn’t help herself from swiveling, just a touch, to follow Carl Carlson over to the table with the ostentatious redhead and the twelve people that accompanied her.
“Why hello there, Carl!”she said, a little too loudly for Elizabeth’s taste. From the world that she came from, women were not supposed to draw attention to themselves. This woman, however, clearly demanded that she’d be in the center of it all.“Everyone, this is my friend, Carl!”No one seemed impressed but they smiled at him nevertheless.“He owns this diner and I always bring my tours here for lunch.”She turned toward Carl and batted her eyes.“Isn’t that right, Carl?”She didn’t wait for his answer.“He has the best apple cobbler in town. I highly recommend it.”
Elizabeth noticed that Carl stood by patiently, waiting for the woman to stop her ramblings. While he appeared to be smiling, there was a look of indifference across his face. She knew that look all too well: it was one Sophia wore during their monthly visits.
“Coffee for everyone, I imagine?”His tone remained pleasant, but he was clearly trying to focus the group’s attention on ordering.
“Wonderful, Carl. And bring some of your coffee cake out,”the woman instructed in a far too bossy manner for Elizabeth’s taste. She returned her attention to her guests when she added,“That’s included in the tour, after all!”
So Carl owned the diner, Elizabeth thought as she swiveled back on the counter stool and picked at the food, not really hungry but knowing that she better eat. Small meals throughout the day helped to keep hunger at bay. That was what her mother always told her when she was a child.
Elizabeth could still hear her mother’s voice in her ears, the sing-song lilt as she placed a plate of freshly washed and cut fruit before her after school. No cookies, no treats. Fruit was the only after-school snack in their household. When Elizabeth had her own children, she had followed the same routine.
Unfortunately, that rule hadn’t gone over so well once the kids hit elementary school, causing Sophia to find excuses to not bring her friends home. It wasn’t until years later that Elizabeth found out her daughter was embarrassed, not only by their too-small house, but by the lack of snacks available to offer her friends.
After finishing her meal, Elizabeth tried to capture Carl’s attention for the bill. She fingered the piece of paper that still lay on the counter with Mary Troyer’s cryptic address. Fifteen minutes passed and he still hadn’t returned. Clearly his attention was focused on the large group from the Berlin Tour Stop, or so Elizabeth learned it was called from the over-the-top Vivian who did everything she could to demand Carl’s attention.
“I’m so sorry,”he apologized, a pot of coffee in his hand when he finally managed to escape. He started to top off her mug but she shook her head.“Everything else all right?”
“Delicious.”And she meant it.
Immediately after William’s death, there was an influx of food from neighbors, friends, and family: casseroles, lasagnas, shepherd’s pie. Anything that could be frozen seemed to make its way into her kitchen. Because of the generosity of the community and her church, it had been a long time since she had a warm meal that hadn’t been pulled from the freezer and reheated.
“I do have one question, though,”she asked.
He seemed pleased and set the coffee pot down on the counter, his attention focused one hundred percent on her. Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth thought she saw that Vivian woman waving her hand, trying to attract Carl but it was clear that he chose not to notice. Elizabeth couldn’t help wondering if that was on purpose.
“Let’s hope I have an answer then, Just Elizabeth.”
She laughed. When had anyone ever made her laugh three times in one day? She touched the paper and slid it toward him.“What am I supposed to do with this?”He glanced down at it and frowned.“Isn’t there a phone number I could call? And how am I supposed to find it? Is it actually labeled Dirt Road?”
He tried not to smile; however, he couldn’t hide his amusement.“There is no phone number. And the street is not actually called Dirt Road. But it is, indeed, a dirt road. You can’t miss it, just Elizabeth. There are five mailboxes at the end of the lane with the name Troyer over each one.”
“What kind of place is it?”
“An Amish farm,”he replied.“Which is why you can’t call them.”
Now it made sense. She took back the paper and, after another quick look at it, put into the side pocket of her bag.
“The Troyers have a small cottage that they rent out,”he explained.“A three-night minimum, however. But I figured it will take at least that long to reinvent yourself.”
Three nights, Elizabeth thought. That wasn’t a long time. She had no idea how long she intended to be away, but she had decided one thing about this trip: she was going to do what Fate told her to do. Somehow God led her to this small diner and to meet Carl Carlson who, for some unknown reason, felt inclined to give her this name. Fate was now in charge.
“At least three days,”she agreed, forcing herself to sound more cheerful than she actually felt.“And how well do you know these Troyers?”
He looked amused at her question.“Well,”he said, lowering his voice as if about to share a secret with her.“If you’re worried they are crazy people or prone to massacre their guests, I can assure you it is not a Bates Motel.”She couldn’t help but burst out laughing at his joke and immediately felt guilty when she noticed the redheaded woman look in their direction.“Seriously, they are good people. I don't send just anyone there.”He paused, tilting his head just a touch as his eyes met hers.“Just Elizabeth.”
“Oh.”The word came out like a breathless gasp and she forced herself to look away from Ca
rl. The last time anyone had ever flirted with her was thirty-seven years ago and that had been over a soda pop after a high school dance. She didn’t know how to respond so she merely mumbled something about needing the check.
He reached for the plate.“You don’t know me from Adam but I’m asking you to trust me.”He started to walk away and then, as if an afterthought, turned back.“I’m usually a fairly good judge of character. And something tells me,”he said, punctuating the air with his finger as he walked away backward.“Mary Troyer is just what you need.”
Before he disappeared again, she called out.“Wait. What about the bill?”
“Huh?”
She gestured to her plate.“You didn’t leave me the bill. I don’t know what I owe.”
He shrugged.“It’s on the house…as long as you come back to visit while you’re here, Just Elizabeth. To tell me whether or not I was right.”
Her mouth dropped open, words evading her. She felt the color rise to her cheeks. His kindness touched her in a special way; a way that she couldn’t describe. A complete stranger had bought her meal? She didn’t know how to respond and could barely find the words to say Thank you.“I…I don’t know what to say…”
Her reaction seemed to delight him further.“Then just say nothing.”He winked and quickly hurried away before she had a chance to argue.
It took her a moment to realize that he wasn’t coming back and he wasn’t letting her pay for her meal. A warm feeling grew in her heart. Good people, she thought. They still exist in the world. As she shifted on the stool and reached to collect her purse, she felt someone staring at her. Looking up, she was only partially surprised to see the woman, Vivian, watching her. Despite knowing immediately that the redheaded, loud woman was not her cup of tea, Elizabeth started to smile and almost lifted her hand to wave. But the stern expression on Vivian’s face, her pencil-thin lips pressed tightly together and her overly made-up eyes set in a scowl, startled her.