The Summer I Learned to Dive

by McCrimmon, Shannon

  He nodded and took off his cap, exposing a receding hair line. His head tanned, filled with brown freckles. He looked at me and winked. It took me by surprise which must have shown because he laughed. He smelled like a brewery. He sat down on one of the bar stools.

  “Finn, this is Hank. Hank, this is Charlie’s granddaughter,” she said.

  “Pleased to meet you.” He extended his hand. They were callused and rough. Years and years of hard work had definitely impacted them. His face was full of wrinkles, his skin tan and leathery.

  “Finn, go fix him a cup of coffee. Black. I’ll put your order in Hank,” she said and stepped over to the window. “Give me an Adam and Eve on a raft!” she yelled.

  I gave her a strange look. “That’s two poached eggs on toast,” she said to me.

  I shook my head as if to say I understood, but learning diner lingo would be as challenging as learning a foreign language. I poured the coffee and brought it to his table.

  His hands shook a little as he held his cup, sipping the coffee slowly. I had filled the cup too high. Some of the coffee flowed out onto the counter. “Sorry,” he said, looking down at it. He put the cup down and wiped the counter with a napkin.

  “I’ll get it,” I said, grabbing a wet cloth and wiping up the mess.

  A few more customers came in. I nervously looked around for Hannah. She was busy with another customer and motioned for me to seat them myself. I walked to the front door and greeted them.

  “Hi, welcome to Lilly’s Diner.” I walked away, forgetting to tell them to follow me. I turned around and saw them bewildered standing by the front door.

  “If you’ll just have a seat right here folks,” she said, coming to my rescue. I walked over to where she sat them and listened to her telling them about the day’s special.

  “Thanks Hannah,” I whispered to her gratefully.

  “I was new once. You’ll get the hang of it,” she said, making me feel better, more secure.

  The day was a long one. Being on my feet for that amount of time wore me out and hurt. It was a pain beyond anything I had ever experienced. My feet felt like they were on fire, like someone had poured lighter fluid on them and then struck a match. Waitressing was hard work. When the breakfast crowd left, the lunch crowd came in. I didn’t get a break. If the diner had been open for dinner, I know in all certainty that I would have never been able to last. I would have hobbled out the front door to die.

  I sat down on one of the bar stools, taking off my shoes, seeing that the back of my heels were bleeding from newly formed blisters. I ached all over and would have to do this tomorrow and the next day and the next. I felt an enormous amount of dread.

  “You need better shoes,” Hannah said, looking down at my feet. She sat next to me. Meg sat down on the other side of me.

  “They hurt,” I said, squeezing my left foot, grimacing from the pain.

  “It’s part of the job, Finn,” Hannah said, patting me on the back. “You’ll get used to it.”

  “So Finn, what made you come to Graceville?” Meg asked.

  “I wanted to get to know Charlie and Lilly,” I said.

  “Charlie’s never mentioned you before.” She sucked on her straw, swallowing some of her Coke. “But that doesn’t mean anything. He tends to keep to himself a lot.”

  “Well, we don’t really know each other. I haven’t seen him a long time,” I said, regretting that I had admitted that much information.

  “I know what you mean. I haven’t seen my grandparents in forever,” she said unfazed by my comment. “So, did you just graduate from high school?” she asked, changing the subject. She moved closer to me, her elbows resting on the counter, her hand under her chin.

  “Yes,” I said, unsure of how to continue making conversation. I can talk to anyone about books, but basic conversation was difficult for me. “Did you?” I asked her.

  “Last year. I’m going to cosmetology school. Hannah is a year older than me. She’s in nursing school.” She took a sip of her Coke. “You’re hair color is amazing.” She touched my hair. “Is it natural?”

  “Yes.” I was surprised by lack of boundaries. She didn’t have any problems with personal space.

  “People pay big money to have that hair color,” she said. “It would look great in curls. You’ll have to let me curl it sometime,” she offered. I wasn’t good with this girl stuff. I had never curled my hair. I was fine letting it hang straight against my shoulders or up in a pony tail.

  “That’s okay,” I said, forming a slight smile.

  “I insist.”

  “Thanks though.” I was trying to be polite.

  “Suit yourself,” she said nonchalantly. She handed me containers of sugar and a bag filled with sugar. “Here, fill these up.” We began filling the sugar containers and refilling the ketchup bottles.

  Hannah turned up the jukebox, playing Buddy Holly’s Peggy Sue. She and Meg danced around, singing as they swept and mopped the floor. I watched them having fun, doubtful of how to join in. I was amazed that they had that much energy after working all day.

  “Lunch is served!” my grandfather hollered from the kitchen. I had forgotten how hungry I was. Hours of working on my feet and staying constantly busy had made those thoughts disappear. He made grilled cheese sandwiches and French fries for all of us. This was by no means a basic grilled cheese sandwich. It was filled with different cheeses, with a variety of pleasant flavors. Nana was right. My grandfather could cook.

  I said very little during lunch. Meg and Hannah did most of the talking.

  “Are you coming back tomorrow?” Meg asked.

  I shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I?” I wondered if I had been that obvious.

  “The first day’s always rough. It’ll get better,” she added.

  Hannah scoffed, “You’re one to talk, Meg. You almost quit after the first day.” I looked quickly at Meg who was glaring at Hannah.

  “Whatever. Like you weren’t the same,” she replied with annoyance.

  They kept talking, mostly arguing. But they weren’t really mad at each other. It was playful banter between siblings. My grandfather barely uttered a word the entire time. Jesse asked him a few questions about the diner and he’d answer him. But that was all he said. I tried to not stare at Jesse. He caught me looking in his direction a few times. I didn’t say much throughout lunch. I was like my grandfather in that sense, more the observer than participant. I took my plate and cup to the kitchen and put them in the dishwasher. My feet hurt immensely. It was difficult to walk, especially since I had taken my shoes off, only to discover that putting them back on would be even more painful.

  “Your grandmother will know what to do with your feet. I’ll have her take you to get a better pair of shoes tonight,” my grandfather said. I was surprised by his generosity.

  “Thank you.”

  A laconic man, he simply said “Yep” and walked away.

  Chapter 7

  When I got back to my grandparents house, I had no energy left in me to do anything. I took a hot shower and crashed on the bed, and didn’t wake up until the next morning. My body was telling me to stay in bed. My mind made me get up and face another day of grueling work. I couldn’t quit, no matter how much my body wanted me to. I needed to try this, to see what it was like to have a job. I hobbled on my feet and quickly got dressed. My grandparents were talking in the kitchen.

  “Bless your heart. Finn, how are your feet?” Nana asked, watching me hobble.

  “Sore, but I’ll be okay,” I said, seeing my grandfather smirk.

  “I went out and got you a pair of shoes last night. I could see I wasn’t going to wake you and knew you couldn’t last another day in those awful shoes of yours.” She stared at my feet and shook her head slightly.

  “T
hank you. What do I owe you?” I asked.

  “Nonsense. They didn’t cost much,” she said.

  “Please, let me pay you for them. I’m already infringing by staying here,” I said.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said and kissed me on the head. She left the room and came back with the tennis shoes. They weren’t pretty, that’s for sure. Stark white with some type of orthopedic element, they belonged on an old person or a nurse, not an eighteen year old girl. I already had a difficult time with boys. Wearing these shoes would only make that problem worse.

  “Thank you,” I said and took them. The last thing I wanted to do was appear unappreciative. I sat down and put them on. They were bulky but comfortable. The soles felt spongy, as if my feet were on top of marshmallows.

  “I know they’re not pretty, but your feet will thank me,” she said. “The first year I worked at the diner, that’s all I wore and I was awfully glad I did.”

  “How come you don’t work there now?”

  “Oh, I work there from time to time. I still make the pies, though,” she said and laughed quietly.

  “We don’t have time for small talk. Love you,” my grandfather said, standing up and kissed her quickly. He motioned for me to follow him. I stood in my new shoes, feeling like I was walking on air. Nana was a lifesaver; the shoes would get me through a treacherous day of standing on my feet for hours.

  “Nana, they’re great! Thanks,” I said and hugged her before walking out the front door. My grandfather sat in his truck, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel staring at me impatiently.

  “They must fit alright,” he said.

  “Yes. They’re very comfortable,” I said, looking down at them, stretching my feet, moving them in circles.

  “Good,” he replied and said nothing more the entire ride to work.

  ***

  I walked into the office to put my purse in a locker. Jesse came in and stood beside me, opening his locker. He closed the door and then looked at me. I attempted to smile at him. “New shoes?” he asked, staring down at my feet.

  “Yes.”

  “You won’t get blisters. Those are orthopedic shoes. They’re made for old people with major foot problems,” he said.

  “That’s what I thought they were for. I feel like I’m walking on sponges,” I said, moving my feet up and down, feeling absurd once I did.

  “Did Lilly get those for you?” he asked.

  “Yes. How’d you know?”

  “She bought me a pair like those when I first started here.” He pointed to his shoes, which looked like mine, only they were black. “She takes care of everyone like that.” I was about to say something, but he left before I could.

  ***

  The next few days flew by quickly. The work didn’t get any easier. I still had a hard time with the diner lingo and gave my orders literally, which frustrated both my grandfather and Jesse. Calling eggs “Adam and Eve” rather than eggs didn’t make sense to me. It takes more effort. But they insisted that I learn the crazy phrases. Meg and Hannah created a study guide for me. For once, I was not motivated to study and was too exhausted to do so by the time I got home anyway. My day at the diner ended around 4 o’clock every afternoon. By that time, all I wanted to do was take a hot shower and lay on the couch. Nana encouraged me to go out, to be with people my own age, but I wasn’t good at making friends. I didn’t know how. I had lost that ability a long time ago and didn’t know how to gain it back.

  I’d had one girl friend in my life—Chloe Saunders. Throughout elementary school, we were inseparable. I met her the first day of school my first grade year. She was the only other kid reading a book during recess. Together, we sat under our special tree reading our favorite stories while the other kids chased each other and played on the jungle gym equipment. We were a pair. Most of the kids thought of us as social lepers or circus oddities. We were the “brainiacs,” the nerds, the smartest and brightest kids in the class and that intimidated them all. Chloe and I didn’t notice, nor did we care. We had each other.

  The year I started sixth grade, it all changed. Chloe was moving away to Kansas. Her dad was offered a job and she had to leave. I begged her to stay. I didn’t want her to go. I knew it wouldn’t be the same without her. She was the only person I felt a connection with and I didn’t want to lose that.

  That year was one of my worst years in school. I didn’t deal well with Chloe’s absence. Middle school was a different animal. There was so much emphasis on popularity. Intelligence was seen as a stigma rather than a gift. I immersed myself in more books, forgetting about the others. It was hard to find anyone that I felt comfortable with, that I could be myself with. It was one of the loneliest times in my life.

  But things slowly improved. I met other students with similar interests but they never quite filled that gap, that hole that Chloe had left behind. I was never able to develop the same type of friendship with them that I had with her. They were just people that I knew, that I had a few things in common with. It wasn’t the same.

  Chloe and I kept in touch after she moved, but time and distance changed things. She came back to Florida to stay with her grandparents the summer of our ninth grade year. She had changed and we found that we didn’t have much to talk about. She didn’t care about reading anymore. All she wanted to do was go to the mall and flirt with boys. She put more importance on things that I thought were superficial. She was only concerned about her appearance.

  After relentlessly asking me, I reluctantly went to the mall with her one day. That’s all she had talked about the moment she came over to see me. Going to the mall to check out boys sounded like a complete waste of time to me.

  We had been at the mall for barely an hour when she met a boy. He asked her to go see a movie, which was something I was not interested in doing. I told her I didn’t want to go. She tried persuading me to go with her but in the end she went to the movies with him instead, leaving me alone. It stung me to the core. I cried in the department store bathroom, feeling deserted and alone. I ended up calling my mom to come pick me up, crying the entire ride home. My mother tried to console me, telling me that people change and that I would find other friends who were like me. The part I was most upset about was that I felt Chloe had turned into a vacuous drone. She had given up her uniqueness only to fit in.

  She called me later that week to say goodbye before she left to go back to Kansas. She never apologized for leaving me. Instead, she berated me for being so serious. “You’re never going to get a boyfriend if you keep this up,” she said.

  “Maybe I don’t care about that,” I replied sorely.

  She scoffed, “Well, your high school years will suck then.”

  That cut deep. “That’s fine by me,” I said defensively.

  She sighed and said, “I’m just trying to help you be cool, Finn.”

  “I’d rather be me, thank you,” I replied, hurt beyond repair. The conversation lagged and was awkward. She promised to keep in touch, but I knew it was what people said to each other, that it was a broken promise. I said goodbye to her knowing it would be the last time I would ever speak to her.

  ***

  Meg whispered in my ear, “Ugh, you get this table okay, Finn.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Okay,” I said, deciding not to press the issue.

  Two boys and one girl sat down in one of the booths. They chatted loudly, which caused some of the other customers to stare at them. And the fact that they were dressed in expensive clothing and looked like models made them an obvious attraction to the Graceville locals. I could tell by the way they handled themselves that they were rich. The girl hovered over the boy with brown hair. She couldn’t keep her hands off of him.

  “Blake, we have a new waitress to admire,” the blonde boy said. His muscular skin had a bronze tint. Hi
s friend looked up at me. The girl glared at me.

  “What would you like to order?” I asked.

  “I’m Dylan,” the blonde said. He smiled at me; his teeth were perfect and were bright white, almost artificial looking. I wondered if they would glow in the dark.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Finn.” I could feel my cheeks turning red. What an inopportune time for it to happen.

  “Nice to meet you, Finn. I’ll have a hamburger, fries and a Coke,” he said. His friend ordered the same and the girl ordered a small salad. Nothing irritates me more than when a thin girl eats like a rabbit.

  I walked behind the counter and called out the order through the window to Jesse. “One rabbit food in the alley. Two cows, drag them through the garden with 2 orders of frog sticks!” I hollered. Jesse nodded coherently. To anyone else listening it would sound like I was an alien speaking. The diner lingo was starting to become second nature to me.

  “Thanks, Finn. I did not want to deal with him today,” Meg whispered to me, inconspicuously staring at them and then back at me.

  “It’s fine,” I said.

  “It’s just hard to see Blake with another girl. Did you see the way she was hanging all over him? It’s disgusting,” Meg said, rolling her eyes.

  “Was he your boyfriend?”

  “He was only the love of my life, Finn. We dated for an entire year. I gave my heart to him and now look at him, over there with that girl.” She sounded frustrated and hurt.

  “I’m sorry.” I tried to understand where she was coming from, but it was hard for me to relate. I had never had a boyfriend. I’d only come close—once.

  ***

  Trace Johnson was the closest contact I’ve ever had with a boy and the only person I’ve ever gone on a date with. We were in several classes together my junior year. He wasn’t very talkative, he mostly kept to himself. He had a nervous, quiet voice, as if he was questioning himself when he spoke. We were lab partners in chemistry class. I liked having him as a partner because he was smart and easy to work with. We were a perfect team and worked together seamlessly. When he asked me to go to a laser show with him I was surprised.