by Amber Nation
She had no idea what it was like to be complimented, and wasn’t that a shame because she deserved so many compliments.
Bringing the first bite to her mouth, I saw the tines of her fork disappear and I swear her eyes rolled back in her head as she moaned. “Oh my God," she said while she still had a mouth full of food, but she quickly covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m so sorry, but it is so damn good."
Each and every single bite she savored over and it was making it extremely hot in The Diner. I had to continuously pull my shirt off of my chest, to get a little air in order to breathe. These little sounds she was making each and every time her fork entered her mouth was ultimately going to be the death of me.
Wanda came up to the end of our booth and stuck her hip out and perched her hand that was holding her notepad upon it. She directed a pointed stare at Sheridan and shoved her pencil towards her face. Just when I thought Wanda was going to give her a serious tongue lashing, she surprised the hell out of me, “Now what I can’t understand is why someone would help serve dishes without any type of incentive. You don’t find that type of kindness much nowadays anymore."
I spoke up before Sheridan could reply, “Well, Sheridan is a truly extraordinary person."
Sheridan looked down at her plate as a pink hue tinged her cheeks.
I had to mentally pat myself on the back for being able to compliment her again. I was almost taken aback at the reaction she had to them. It just went to show that you should never judge a book by its cover, as I had done with Sheridan in the beginning.
She looked so extremely put together on the outside and you would almost assume she would come across as uppity, and even though she could be a major smartass, she was such a genuine person. I couldn’t believe that Pate dragged her and her confidence down with his actions and words. I wanted to see that rosiness in her cheeks all the time, I needed to step up my game.
“You were busy, I didn’t want things to get backed up for you guys." She spoke softly and shrugged a slumped shoulder while moving her fork across her half eaten French toast.
Wanda looked at me and winked while I cracked a half smile.
“Well, how would you like to actually do that for pay?"
Sheridan straightened her posture and instantly perked up, “You mean like work here?"
Wanda looked at me once again but this time with a stunned expression and then pointed her pencil back at Sheridan, “Is this cat for real?" She turned back to Sheridan, “Honey this job isn’t that glamorous. It’s hard work, you get shitty people and bust your ass for even shittier pay."
“Well, when you put it that way, sure!" I could tell Sheridan was ecstatic by the twinkle in her eyes.
“Be here tomorrow morning at nine am sharp, don’t be late," she gave her a hard stare before turning around to walk away from us.
I leaned forward with my elbows resting on the table and said in a hushed tone, “Don’t let the old bitty fool ya, she loves working here and all of her customers."
“Yeah, you just keep on telling yourself that!" Wanda yelled over her shoulder in her raspy voice.
I laughed and then brought my attention back to Sheridan who looked as if she were about to burst at the seams with excitement.
“Go ahead, get it out."
She let out a little high pitched shrill as she stomped her feet on the floor and shook her hands out in front of her. It made me happy to see her so excited about something.
“So, now that you officially have a job in Brown County do you think you will make it a permanent residence?"
She stopped her little happy dance and locked eyes on mine. Her eyes seemed to flare as she tried to regain her normal breathing. “Well, let’s see here, I have a car that will hopefully be in functioning order soon," I liked how she had to sneak in a little dig at me, but she was right, I needed to get it in top shape for her to drive, “I now have a job in this quaint little retro joint, I have new people to call friends to surround my life with, I would have to say that I could definitely see Brown County becoming home. Now all I need to do is find someplace to live and get a few other important things and everything would be perfect."
I didn’t know what other important things she was referring to, but I didn’t like her thinking that she had to move out and find a residence of her own.
“You know Sheridan, my spare bedroom is yours for however long you want it. I want to make sure that you are up on your feet and stable before you trouble yourself with looking for a house."
“Why, Mike I would almost believe that you liked having me around."
I guess it was my turn to get a sheepish expression on my face, but I quickly recovered, “Well you know, I guess you’re alright to have around and besides Sadie would miss you."
I settled our bill and she shoulder checked me on the way out to my truck, “Alright, you don’t have to admit it but I would miss being around you too."
It had been a few weeks since Sheridan started working at The Diner and her presence at home had been very scarce. She was working all the time, picking up extra shifts and sometimes doubles. I would offer her a ride whenever I could, but she would often turn me down wanting to walk. It just showed the initiative she had and the ability to persevere. It was safe to say that I was turning into a girl with feelings, because I missed the hell out of her. I missed our daily smart ass banter and Sadie missed her lounge buddy.
It’s amazing how quickly someone could settle into a normal routine and although I loved that Sheridan had a job, especially one that she was happy at, I hated that our ‘routine’ had been upturned.
The very first day of working at The Diner she came home in such a happy mood and was carrying a large white sack. That next morning she came out of the bathroom in her new work uniform, which was what had been in the sack. I had to almost quite literally catch my jaw before it fell on the floor.
Holy fucking pin-up model, she was smokin’.
I couldn’t tell you exactly what type of expression she saw on my face, but it must not have what she was aiming for.
“Does it not look ok?"
I was seriously struck dumb by her beauty.
I started at her feet, because looking up any further for a continuous amount of time would result in a lower piece of my anatomy severely inflating, and I couldn’t have that with the current position I was in.
She had just plain black ballet flats on her feet, but what I wouldn’t have given to see her in a pair of red peep toe pumps. Shit, starting with her feet was supposed to help me calm down not get me even more riled up.
Traveling up her long, shapely legs, I found the hem of her Fifties style retro dress. This particular dress was black with little red cherries all over it. She had her little white apron wrapped around her waist and tied in the front in a big red bow. The top of the dress was what really took the cake, it was almost in a heart shape. The rounded portion of the heart covering the swell of her breasts. But that little dip in the middle that separated the two halves revealed a pretty nice portion of her cleavage.
“Ahem," Sheridan cleared her throat, and I realized that I was still staring at her breasts and hadn’t answered her question. “My eyes are up here you know." I quickly flicked my eyes up to her face and then saw that she had taken the stance of a pissed off woman; hip protruding out and a hand perched on it, the only thing that would complete this look would be her toe tapping on the floor.
“Sheridan, you look…wow! You look absolutely beautiful, I’m just really glad that Wanda doesn’t wear the same uniform, I don’t really know who could pull it off better."
Hands down it was Sheridan.
Her face broke out in a smile, which made her outlined crimson lips look amazing against the whiteness of her teeth. She even stayed true to the theme of the diner with her hair, it was done up in some retro like twist. God if she would just start strutting and sashaying around singing “Happy Birthday, Mr. President," in a sexy tone, I would seriously die a happy
man, it would be with an extremely horrendous case of blue balls, but I would be happy nonetheless.
Sadie whining at the door broke me out of my Sheridan induced trance, she must have been home from work. I straightened myself up on the couch, it was my day off and I actually for once took the day off. I did absolutely nothing but piddle around the house and watch crap TV but it was nice to be able to just relax for once instead of trying to run myself in a million different directions.
The storm door opened and I heard Sheridan’s special high pitched voice, reserved especially for Sadie, “Hi there Sadie Belle, have you been a good girl today?" Sadie whimpered a few more times and it was almost as if she was trying to answer her question.
I heard the clicking of her shoes on my hardwood floor before I saw her appear in the doorway to the living room. She looked surprised to see me home, especially being on the couch, “Oh, hey Mike. I didn’t know you’d be home." She came walking around the back of the couch and around the other side to sit opposite me, “And watching Roseanne too? Do you have a fever, are you feeling alright?" She leaned over to place the back of her hand on my forehead. I knew she was just joking with me but it felt nice being cared for.
Her being in the position she was in gave me the perfect view of her cleavage and I had to quickly recover before I started salivating over her luscious breasts.
I scratched my arm to give my hands something to do, which was becoming more and more common these days, if my hands were free they would itch to touch Sheridan, to hold her. “What can I say, there wasn’t anything else on. It was either this or Real Housewives of some rich community. And I really didn’t feel like listening to catty bitches fight, so Roseanne won."
“Well, I’m glad you’re here." My ears perked up a little more. “I received my first paycheck at The Diner today so I wanted to get you a little something to thank you for everything you’ve done. It’s nothing much, but I hope you like it."
She handed over a small bag and I hurriedly tried to rustle it open. I wasn’t used to receiving gifts, this was unchartered territory for me, but I was happy that Sheridan thought of me.
I took the item out of the bag and just looked at it blankly. My heart lurched into my throat and I honestly didn’t know what to say.
The item in the bag was a navy blue St. Louis Cardinals baseball cap. Almost identical to the tattered one that I always wore except it didn’t have the giant red cardinal on the side like my current one had.
She pointed to the hat, “I saw it and instantly thought of you. Now you can replace the dingy one that you always wear." I still couldn’t speak and she began to get extremely fidgety at my lack of a response. “Is it not ok? I mean you must like the Cardinals since you wear it all the time, but one thing I had never really took into consideration is that you don’t have a single bit of other Cardinals memorabilia in your house. Diehard fans normally have their space decked out in it."
I just continued staring at the new hat that Sheridan gave me, but finally found my voice and it came out harsher than I had intended it to, “That’s because I’m not a diehard fan actually, I really hate the Cardinals."
I rose from the couch the new hat clutched in one hand and the sack it came in clutched in the other. I began walking towards my room, I needed to be alone at the present time.
“Then why do you wear it, especially to the point of it almost falling apart?"
I stopped my descent and turned back towards the couch to see Sheridan twisted in her seat, “I received this hat on my birthday from Hannah a few weeks before she died. She liked the red cardinal on the side of and thought it would look good on me."
I turned back around to finish my way to my room and I heard Sheridan take a sharp intake of breath. I knew it wasn’t her fault, she didn’t know, but I really couldn’t bear to console her at the moment and assure her that everything was ok. I promptly shut my door and just laid outstretched on my back in my bed for the rest of the night.
Sheridan
It had been a few days since my gift giving disaster occurred. Things were almost back to normal I supposed. Mike finally had reassured me that I didn’t know so it wasn’t a big deal, but I knew it had to have brought up some daunting memories for him.
No wonder he wore the thing until the stitches were coming out of the seams, his princess had given it to him. When his explanation came out of his mouth I instantly felt sick. Of all the things that I could have given him, it was the one thing that should never be replaced.
It was a busy day at The Diner and I didn’t see an end to the mass amounts of customers in sight and of course, it had to be a day that I agreed to work over my normal eight hour shift.
The customers instantly took to me and I tried to make my cheery disposition the first thing they encountered when entering for their meals, this had made for some fantastic tips. But today just wasn’t a good day, my feet ached and my hands hurt. I just prayed that I wouldn’t drop anything.
My usual customers had already come and gone, Charlie being one of them. He had been in to grab his breakfast every day that he was on shift, which was normally every day. He always looked so sad and generally needed some cheering up, so I always made sure I wore my biggest smile in hopes that it would rub off on him.
It was weird to think that I had regular customers. I now even have people request to sit in my section when they saw me working. Wanda was more than alright with it because it took some of the workload off of her.
She really almost reminded me of Roseanne except for her fiery red hair. She was almost pushing sixty but acted as if she were thirty. The poor woman was so busty and it caused her to have major back pain because of it. She always acted like she couldn’t care less or didn’t give a shit, but something in her eyes told me otherwise. She was trying to put up a tough exterior for some reason or another, but I had seen through her antics. I had really grown quite fond of her. You always knew when she was coming because of her huffing and puffing due to being an excessive chain smoker, her poor voice had even turned raspy because of it. She was always taking a break to go light up one of her cigarettes, but I didn’t mind because I had a job.
I was bringing plates to their respective tables left and right, no time for resting and I could feel my hands getting weaker, but I chose to ignore it.
The next plate that I grabbed shouldn’t have affected my hand, it was only filled with pancakes, but that was how my hands worked. It could be the smallest of things, but when they wanted to give out they just did. No rhyme or reason to it.
I felt the plate slip out of my hand and away from my grasp as it fell to the black and white tiled floor and shattered into dozens of pieces.
I was instantly thrown back into Pate’s house and I just knew he was going to get onto me for ruining another one of his plates. I knelt on the floor trying to pick up the remnants of the plate and prayed to God that he would take it easy on me.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and I instantly began pleading and apologizing profusely, hoping that the blow wouldn’t be as harsh.
“I’m so, so sorry. I’m cleaning it up as quickly as I can."
“Sheridan," the raspy voice of Wanda brought me back to the present. I blinked away the thought of Pate and realized that I was still in The Diner. My hands were filled with the remains of a mixture of pancakes and broken ceramic.
I felt tears well up in the corners of my eyes and I again apologized, “I’m so sorry, Wanda. My hands are weak sometimes."
“Girl, don’t you worry about it. Happens to the best of us," she waved off. I really liked how she tried to downplay the situation trying to make me feel better. I kept my focus on the scraps on the floor, because I didn’t want to see every single eye in the restaurant on me and my clumsy hands.
Archie came up behind me and put a hand on my back, “Why don’t you take a break, grab yourself a cup of coffee and take a seat at the counter." He winked and started sweeping up the fragments into a dustpan and disposing of t
hem in the back.
I took a deep breath and let it all out. No matter how good my life was now, I could never ever get rid of the gruesome memories of my past.
I did what was suggested and plopped myself down on one of the barstools and placed my head in my hands. I couldn’t quit, accepting defeat wasn’t an option. Pate wouldn’t win.
I had almost everything I needed here. I was getting my life in order and soon it would be complete. I had Mike, but what the hell were we? He was without a doubt my best friend, but I longed for more. Sometimes I would think that I would see little glimpses of hope for the two of us, but I didn’t know if the feeling was mutually reciprocated.
I heard a set of bags being sat down beside me and the relentless chatter of a male and female. I knew that females voice.
I perked up to see Tessa Monroe sitting next to me.
“Sheridan, I was hoping you would be here! I caught wind from Brock that you worked here now." She had just started ignoring the guy who was with her, which I hadn’t recalled ever seeing.
But evidently he wasn’t one to be ignored. “Ahem," he said stepping in between Tessa and myself and extending his hand in my direction. “Excuse, Tessa sometimes I think she was born in a barn," which earned him a shove in the shoulder and a scoff coming from Tessa. He rolled his eyes in her direction and continued on, “I’m Toby Morgan, and you are absolutely gorgeous."
I instantly felt the color rise in my cheeks at his abrupt forwardness.
“Oh, Toby get a grip." Tessa looked at me, “Don’t worry he wasn’t hitting on you, he’s gay. And besides," she focused her attention to Toby, “even if you weren’t, she’s with Mike."
“I’m not with Mike, I just sleep with him. No, I meant I sleep in his spare bedroom at his house." I just needed to quit before I kept digging my hole even deeper.
“Uh huh. Don’t be ashamed of it girl. If I had a big bad secretive man like Mike, I would be telling everyone that I met on the streets. That boy is fine," Toby quipped. My first impression of him was that he seemed like such a diva. I could almost imagine him snapping his fingers and bobbing his head.