Chapter Twelve
As I wiped down the counters around the diner I stared out through the window onto the street. Rain was pouring down with such force that it bounced off the pavement, jumping back onto the hems of the passerby’s. Cars were sliding on the road, honking every chance they got. People were running from buildings to cars, covering their heads with newspapers and their own coats.
I grinned and shook my head in disbelief as I watched them. It’s rain, people, a little bit of rain. It’s not going to kill you. The rain was a nice change from the scorching sun that came out almost every day. Not even the days when there was overcast shifted the amount of heat in the air. If anything, on those days, the temperature was hotter and humidity was the queen.
But the rain had been falling steadily since midnight and I could feel the heat dwindle down. I didn’t feel like I was suffocating when I stepped outside. The only downside of the weather, though, was that the diner was empty...completely desolate. No one wanted to go out to the diner to eat soup and drink coffee when they could do the same thing at home.
I dropped my rag on one of the empty booths and slid into the chair to rest. Rebecca and Jacob were in the back, prepping for the next day, and Bailey was in the back with them helping them carry boxes. With nothing better to do, Rebecca decided to rearrange the kitchen. She was bored, and hated feeling cooped up.
She needed something to keep her from getting too bored. This time she dragged Bailey and Jacob into it. Poor schmucks.
As I looked out the window I spied a girl with a chin length bob cut running across the street to the diner. Rain bounced off her caramel colored skin as she hopped over the puddles and side stepped cars splashing mud and water everywhere. Not a drop landed on her. In her hand was a blue umbrella with yellow ducks all around. Across her body was a leather messenger bag.
I wondered if she was coming in for something to eat after finishing a class at the local college.
After successfully crossing the street, the girl stopped in front of the diner, closed her umbrella, and then shook herself like a dog trying to shake off after a bath. She peered through the window, her hands cupped around her eyes, before opening the door and walking in. Her shoes squeaked against the floor and I got up from my spot in the corner.
"Sit wherever you would like," I told her. "I'll be with you in just a minute." The girl smiled at me as she situated herself at a table. She hung up her umbrella on the back of the chair she was sitting in and then started to rummage through her bag. I grabbed my apron and tied it around my waist. Reaching into the pocket I pulled out my ordering pad and a pencil. "What can I get for you?" I asked when I finally reached her table. She was studying the menu; her teeth were gnawing at her lower lip and her eyes were furrowed in concentration.
"I'm not sure," she said with an apologetic tone. "I haven't been in town for a while and this place is new to me. What do you suggest?" She looked at me and waited. I looked at the menu and then back out to the disgusting weather.
"Soup," I said. "Definitely soup. We have an amazing broccoli and cheese soup with about half a loaf of bread for dipping. It is delicious."
"Well then, I guess I'll take your word on it. I'll have the largest serving of the soup that I can order. Also I'll have two servings of the same thing to go later on. I’m not sure if I had to tell you that now or later." The girl smiled at me. "If that's not too much trouble, of course. I don’t want to put anyone out."
Put anyone out? Hello lady, this is a restaurant. We’re supposed to serve you. That’s kind of our job.
"No trouble at all," I said, pasting a smile on my face. "It will be out in a little bit. Can I get you a drink while you wait?"
"A root beer please," the girl said. "Thanks." She tucked the menu back with the condiments and I watched as she pulled out a book and her cell phone. Putting the order sheet on the revolving rack, I rang the bell and greeted my sister at the counter. She looked at the girl and then read the order.
"It will be done in fifteen, maybe less," Rebecca told me. I followed her back to the kitchen and filled a large cup with root beer.
After bringing the cup to the girl, along with a straw, I slipped behind the counter and studied her. There was something about her, something that looked familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I pondered over where I knew her from. She wasn’t a regular, I was almost sure of that. Rebecca lived in a small town, so I knew nearly everyone who <