“Thanks again, Cornelia,” I said as I waved over my shoulder.
“No problem, anytime. Let me know if you get Mr. Bartley’s funeral off from work. If not, I can find someone to watch Beth.” She smiled at me as I turned to look back at her. Her hair was salt and pepper and up in a bun today. She was so tall and elegant. I imagined she was quite the sight when she was younger.
“That would be great.” My lips spread in a return smile.
“Bye, Mrs. Samson.” Beth waved rapidly as she chattered her teeth.
“Get in the car, Honey Bee.” I shook my head with a grin.
Beth’s hair was too long. It hung just below her waist, all one length in straw colored waves. She had my blonde but looked just like Adam. I wished she could’ve looked more like me; looking at her was like staring at the past, and it hurt sometimes. Adam was that hot doctor every young nurse wanted to work with. He was smart, tall, dark, and had just enough sex appeal to make him cocky. His brown eyes drank you in, making you think you were his. I’d worked with him back when I lived in Utah. We had a drunken one-night stand, and I ended up pregnant.
He didn’t want anything to do with me after that. It was too hard to work with him. He ignored me, made me feel ashamed of what we’d done like I was a burden. I never thought I’d come back to Oakville because when I’d left to go to nursing school, I’d hoped to make a go of it down south. After Adam, my first mark of shame, I had decided to move back home. I’d packed my bags and, ever since, I’d tried not to look back. On occasion, when I looked at Beth, I would see his beauty, and I began to want things that would never exist, at least not for me.
I waved one last time at Cornelia as I sat in the driver seat. “You buckled in?”
“Yes. Are we going to have lunch? How come you got me early? Can we get ice cream?” She fired each question with an excited burst.
“Beth, it’s freezing. How can you even think of ice cream?” I pretended to shiver and made a burr noise with my lips.
She giggled. “It was half-day today.”
“I know.” I smiled at her in the rearview mirror.
“I’m starving,” she whined, and I laughed. She could go from happy, to sad, to indignant in zero-point-five seconds.
“Me, too. Do you want homemade mac and cheese?”
“Mom, it’s not homemade if it comes from that blue box.” She gave me a disgusted look.
“Hey now, I put the butter and milk in it.” I giggled as she shook her head, and brought my eyes back to the road. “How are you almost seven?” Time, it moved too fast.
“Because, it’s almost my birthday.”
“It is?” I asked with heavy sarcasm. She inherited my hair and my wit; I was proud.
“Let’s eat there.” She pointed. “We never have, Mom.”
My eyes landed on Red’s and my stomach turned. I hadn’t realized we were this close to the scene of the accident. On my way to get her, I’d taken the backroads in an attempt to avoid it, but Beth was so good at distraction, I hadn’t gone the way I wanted.
“Please, Mom. I bet they have hot cocoa,” she bargained. I looked back at her in my rearview again, and she even had her bottom lip jutted out. I rolled my eyes.
I slowed the car and made sure no one was headed in either direction before I did a U-turn. I kind of wanted to thank that paramedic. Well, the “used to be” paramedic. Even though he was kind of a jerk, he was just trying to help, and things can get heated during a crisis. The gravel was wet, and my car skidded a bit as I pulled in. The place appeared busy, and I noticed a couple police cars as well.
“Come on, Honey Bee. Let’s get burgers and fries to go?” I didn’t want to stay. I didn’t want to eat while staring at the place my friend died this morning.
“Awe, Mom, I want hot chocolate.” Her frown was almost comical.
“Beth, I’m sure they have to-go cups.” I laced my fingers with hers as we headed inside.
“Good.” She smiled and started to hum the theme to Spider-Man. My little girl was obsessed with superheroes.
The smell of bacon hit me like a brick wall as the diner door swung open. Voices mumbled and buzzed as we walked in. The place was quaint and dingy, and I instantly loved it. I’d never once been in Red’s, not even as a child that I could remember. It looked like such a sad place, and I’d never really understood the appeal of small towns, greasy spoons, and country music… not until I moved back. The big city ate me up and spat me out, and I needed places like Red’s in my life to remind me what the world offered in its small dark corners.
The woman behind the counter was shouting orders through a swinging door and an older man, whom I recognized for some weird reason, was chatting with the two police officers that were seated at the breakfast bar. His smile was genuine, with deep wrinkles, and I found myself smiling as I watched him talk with animation. The music on the jukebox played loudly, and I almost reconsidered getting take out for a corner booth instead. The man stopped mid-sentence and smiled at me, then at Beth.
“Well, if it isn’t little Maggie Wright. I used to play cards with your dad.” His voice was almost as full as his grin.
I smiled, and my eyebrows pulled together. “It is. You knew my father?”
“I know everyone.” He laughed loudly, and the officers sitting at the bar followed suit. I recognized one of the officers. Tate Evans and I went to high school together, and in a town this small, you knew everyone, well, at least, I thought I did.
“Hey there, Maggie.” Tate gave me a shy smile and nodded his head.
“Hey, Tate.” Beth was incessantly pulling on my sweater. “What, little girl?” My eyes were wide as I looked down at the impatient child.
“Can we get hot chocolate?”
Oh my gosh. “Yes, I said—”
“We have the best in town.” The man smirked down at Beth, and she giggled.
“Who are you?” she asked with attitude.
I was just about to admonish her, but he interrupted again. “My name is Tony Potts, and I own this place. What can I get for you, little miss?”
“My mom calls me Honey Bee.”
“Does she now?” He placed his elbows on the counter surface and leaned closer to where we were standing. “What can I get for you, Honey Bee?”
“I’d like a cheeseburger, cheese only, fries…” She brought her pointer finger to her lips and started tapping it against her mouth making it next to impossible to suppress my bubbling laughter. “Mmm, and I’d like hot cocoa, to-go, with ten marshmallows.”
Tony raised his eyebrows. “Ten? Are you sure?”
She nodded and the entire breakfast bar of men started laughing heartily. “She’s a pistol, that one.” Tony smacked the countertop in jest with the palm of his hand.
“Don’t I know it.” I giggled as Beth’s lips spread into a large cheesy grin. My mom was always right. The cheesiest grins made everything better. “I’ll have the same as her, please.”
“Have a seat. Hey, Lou, get these ladies some hot cocoa,” Tony shouted to the older lady taking another customer’s order. She nodded and gave me a welcoming smile. It felt as if I belonged here. I hadn’t felt at “home” since my parents died five years ago. This place, with its run-down green vinyl booths, old wooden tables, and musty bacon scent, felt more like a home to me than my own house.
Beth and I headed to one of the booths just as the kitchen door swung open. He walked through, head down with his eyes to the floor. I hadn’t noticed much about him in the black morning light. He was taller than I remembered, definitely over six foot, and his shoulders were broad under his red and black checked flannel shirt. His hair was on the darker side of blond, his beard was full, and his features were sharp. Although his beard covered it, you could tell he had an impressive jawline. He was very handsome in a rugged sort of way. His large hands held the door, and I wondered where they’d been. They looked capable, weathered, and strong.
“Ryan, I need two cheeseburgers, cheese only, comb
os to-go, for these fine ladies.” Tony held out his hand and gestured to Beth and me.
Ryan. Ryan. Ryan… I liked how the name sounded in my head. He lifted his gaze, gifting me his brown eyes, and my lips parted. They were the darkest brown I’d ever seen. A deep, painful brown. It was almost too much to behold. The morning moon had hidden this man from me in its shadows. He scanned my face, and then his stare landed on Beth. Immediately, the hard edge dropped from his eyes. He watched her for a moment, and then closed his eyes as if wounded. The crease in his brow became profound as if the sight of her caused him to wince.
“Did you hear me, son?” Tony’s brows furrowed.
“I did,” Ryan said as he opened his eyes.
“All right then?” Tony asked, and Ryan nodded. “All right then.” Tony turned and continued his conversation with Tate.
“Go pick a song, Honey Bee.” I handed Beth some coins from my purse and watched as she skipped to the jukebox. Her enthusiasm made me smile. Ryan was watching her too as I turned to speak to him. “I… I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to say thank you and tell you I’m sorry for how I acted. It was—”
“It’s fine.” His jaw pulsed as he looked at me.
“I mean, the man, he was my neighbor.”
Ryan’s hand tensed on the door. “He was your neighbor?”
“He didn’t make it.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” He stared over my shoulder as he spoke in a robotic tone.
“Are you?” I wasn’t sure why I asked it, or why I’d infused attitude into my tone, but part of me thought his reply was too scripted, and it made me curious.
“I am.” His dark brown eyes swallowed me whole as he gave me his full attention.
I nervously chewed on the side of my lower lip, having that much intensity pointed in my direction all at once wasn’t something I was used to. “I’ll have your order ready in a few minutes.”
“Thank you,” I said softly, not sure if he’d catch that my thank you was for this morning and the food.
He held my gaze, and the way he watched me – like I was something to memorize, like he hadn’t seen anything like it before – caused each breath, each beat of my pulse to rise.
He nodded and swallowed before he dropped his eyes to the floor, retreating back into the kitchen. My cheeks felt hot and I was sure I was blushing. Tony was looking at me with a coy smirk, and a secret in his eyes. “I hope to see you around here more often.”
I smiled. “I’m sad I’ve never come in before.”
“Oh honey, you were here at least once a week when you were knee high to a grasshopper. I told you, me and your dad, we played cards. You and your mom would come and dance to that very same jukebox.” He laughed openly as we both turned to watch Beth wiggle her hips. The memory hit me like a freight train. After they died, I couldn’t think about the past too much. It was like cutting open an almost healed wound, the pain was sharp.
“I remember,” I whispered as I closed my eyes. I felt my mom’s hand in mine as she twirled me. The bluegrass, the banjos, the smell of bacon. The memories flooded through me, and I felt the heat of my tears overflow onto my cheeks.
“My wife was sick. I’m sorry I didn’t come to their funeral.” Tony’s smile faded as his eyes met mine. “They were good people.”
“They really were.” The words were a strangled knot in my throat.
“Mom, we must come here again.” Beth ran over to me, and I barked out a laugh. My life was an emotional rollercoaster.
Tony looked back at the kitchen door and gave me that secret grin again. Lou, who had been in and out of the kitchen so many times I couldn’t keep up with her, came out again, but this time with our food and two cups of cocoa. “Here you go.” She handed Beth her cup and handed me mine, as well as the bag. “Tony instructed me, it’s on the house.”
“No, you don’t have—”
“Just don’t be a stranger.” Tony’s smile was small.
“I won’t.”
“Good, see you soon. And, Beth, watch out for her. She’s far too sappy looking for such a young pretty thing.”
Beth giggled, and I shook my head. “Let’s go, Bee.”
“See you.” It was then when I looked over my shoulder to wave goodbye, that I saw him again. Ryan. His keen eyes trapped mine, and the butterflies in my stomach surged. I wasn’t sure if it was him or the memories. Either way, this place… it held a piece of me I’d lost, and I wanted her back.
There wasn’t any rain tonight. My eyes were heavy, but my mind wouldn’t shut down. She hadn’t told me her name, but her eyes – those damn, soft blue eyes told me all I needed to know. I’d made her anxious. That same unsettled look I’d gotten from her this morning at the crash site, it was there again this afternoon at the diner. It irritated me, having someone actually look at me. She watched me take in each breath, each movement, and I didn’t like it. It made me feel like a spectacle or a display. It wasn’t until she blushed and her lips parted that I realized she was appraising me in a way I hadn’t been privy to in a long-ass time.
Prison hadn’t dulled my senses. Time hadn’t erased the fact that I was a man, but I didn’t have anything to offer a woman, so what would be the point.
Maggie.
Tony had told me her name after she’d left.
“She’s a good girl, that one.” His smirk was obvious and I ignored him, keeping my eyes trained on the grill and the three burgers I was cooking. “Got a raw deal, poor girl. Her little one sure is cute. Lots of attitude.” He chuckled, and the mention of the little girl made my chest tight.
“What’s her name?” I asked but kept my attention on the food.
He laughed again. “Maggie Wright. Beth is her daughter. She’s six years old and, from what I know, the dad’s not in the picture. Don’t know much, but I do know she went down to Utah for nursing school, graduated, and after a minute, came home knocked up. Utah!” He snorted. “You’d never think your daughter would come home knocked up from that state.”
My lips twitched at the corners. Tony loved to make himself laugh and, at times, it was hard not to smile when he was around. His laughter died down and he became silent. The sudden change in mood caused me to finally look up from the grill.
“Her parents died five years ago. They were on vacation in Oregon, and they’d been out sailing. A storm came in, and the story is they lost direction somehow, ended up heading out to sea instead of back to the harbor. Her dad, Richard, he was experienced, I couldn’t believe it when I found out. I just couldn’t believe it.”
“That’s horrible.” Death was an inevitability, but to die in tragedy, it wasn’t right, and we’re supposed to believe in a god… I’d never believe it.
“It was a great loss. Richard and Peggy were good people. I was so wrapped up in Harlow, in Red, and her cancer treatments, I missed their funeral.”
“So they were recovered then? I mean, at least she had that closure.”
He shook his head. “No. Just the vessel was found. They were presumed dead a week later.” Tony grabbed the fryer and lifted the fries from the grease. The smell of burnt hamburger meat assaulted my nose.
“Shit.” I flipped the burgers, but it was too late. They were overdone.
“Nah, don’t worry about it, Ryan. Just serve ‘em. No one will notice.”
“The girl… she looks a lot like—” I couldn’t say her name; I couldn’t say how much seeing her hurt. She was so full of life. A life Belle would never have. “Death is death, Tony. It’s never going to get easier, not for you, not for me, and not for Maggie Wright and her daughter.”
Death took something I’d never get back… time. When I saw Beth this morning, time mocked me, and it showed me a future that would never be. Maggie could look at me like I was something special, something to want, and it wouldn’t matter because underneath the sinew and bones was a dead heart, a shell of who I could’ve been.
I closed my eyes and rolled heavily to my right side. Maggie. I p
ermitted myself to think her name one last time as my breaths fell to a measured and shallowed hum. I was almost asleep when Maggie’s smile flashed behind my lids. Her eyes on mine and the way her lips were shy around the corners, the image haunted me. But, it was the first time in over ten years I thought of something other than myself and the miserable hole I’d become. I thought of her and I slept. I fucking slept, and it was dreamless, silent — it was heaven.
The weather remained dry the next morning and, even though the humid air chilled me to the core and my breath hung in the air like fog, I used the break to get some work done on my truck. It was an old, beat up Ford F250, made back in 1978. It was mostly white with a red panel down the sides and enough rust to make it dangerous. The damp earth tried to swallow the wheels of the creeper as I rolled out from under the truck. The padded device kept me off the wet ground, and I was grateful for it. I sat up and wiped the grease onto my jeans. There was something to be said about changing your own oil, not having to rely on another person. When I was in prison, I learned lots of valuable skills: how to change my own oil, how to make a shank out of paper, and best of all, I learned how to be on my own — the art of being silent. I learned how to keep peace in my own solitude.
Lunch was over and the diner was deserted. Only the occasional passerby on route twelve would stop in for some coffee. I had about an hour before I needed to start prepping for the dinner crowd. The Conner’s and their seven children drove down from Aberdeen to see Tony every Thursday, and like clockwork, it was shakes, fries, and burgers. Harlow had been related to them somehow, but that’s how it was more often than not. Our customers were townies for the most part, but Tony had touched everyone’s life in some way or another. A man of the cloth through and through.
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